You can't kill the metal,
The metal will live on.
Punk Rock tried to kill the metal
But they failed, as they were smitten to the ground.
Rotnart stirred when he heard the strange music filtering into his head. He knew the voice accompanying the organ.
New wave tried to kill the metal,
But they failed, as they were stricken down to the ground.
Grunge tried to kill the metal, hahahaha
They failed, as they were thrown to the ground.
Aaaargh! Yeah!
Aaaargh! Yeah!
The Troll’s eyes snapped open after hearing the ear-piercing scream. His head came up in a panic. After getting his breathing and pounding heart under control,he finally got a good look at his surroundings. He knew this room. He was underneath the dilapidated castle where he and Rabuf had encountered that duplicitous black alicorn pony. To confirm his suspicions, there was the organ where the demonic music was coming from. To his utter bewilderment, Rabuf was sitting on a wooden bench playing the organ like a master. His brother was surrounded by several trolls jumping up and down, bobbing their heads, and screaming right along with Rabuf.
No one can destroy the metal,
The metal will strike you down with a vicious blow.
We are the vanquished foes of the metal
We tried to win, for why, we do not know.
The former King tried to move his legs but found that he was shackled to the stone wall of the basement. With the other trolls distracted, he tested the bindings around his wrists and feet. A huge fist slammed into the wall inches away from Rotnart’s head. If the former King hadn't been made of wood, Rotnart would have made a puddle between his legs. Rotnart followed the fist that was buried in the stone wall to its owner.
“Going somewhere?” the massive troll asked.
The prisoner shook his head.
“Good answer,” said the much larger troll.
Over the din of the music, Rotnart wracked his brain for answers. None of his brothers and sisters his father had created back on Earth had grown to the size of this goliath. And he was not the only one of his kind. Ignoring the piercing glare of his goaler, Rotnart beheld more monsterish trolls in the moshpit his brother’s concert had created. They were easily twice the height of himself and Rabuf. Some of the giants were encased in full-plate armor. Others were garbed in some sort of tree-bark protection like the goliath who was watching him intently.
New wave tried to destroy the metal, but the metal had its way,
Grunge then tried to dethrone the metal, but metal was in the way.
Punk Rock tried to destroy the metal, but metal was much too strong,
Techno tried to defile the metal, but techno was proven wrong.
Yeah!
To his continued surprise, more mutant trolls were coming down the slide to join the party. These newcomers were not giants but looked like they had more in common with gargoyles. These trolls were hunched and lanky and sported great leathery wings that could get them air-borne in moments.
Metal!
It comes from hell!
The strange concert continued. Rabuf reveled in the attention as he played the last few chords of the song. Rotnart noticed that he was not the only one being kept against his will. When did he get here? Rotnart thought. A white bound and gagged unicorn had been tied to the stone wall just like he was. The pony’s blue mane was matted with dirt and debris. And many bruises were visible underneath the equine’s snowy coat. The pony was a unicorn. Through the equine’s blindfold a white horn pregnant with black crystals poked through the fabric.
“Well, look who’s awake,” called Rabuf.
Rotnart turned his attention back to the concert. The music had stopped and the former King found himself the center of attention of every troll in the room. If looks could kill, Rotnart knew that he would have been dead a hundred times over. Rabuf beamed down at him from his organ bench. His was the only smiling face in an ocean of hostile glares and sneers.
Without turning around, Rabuf played a couple of notes on the black organ. Sections of the northern and southern masonry squealed as they oscillated on great hinges that hadn’t been lubricated in centuries. Rotnart winced at the agony-inducing sound. The walls slowly swung forward to reveal stone staircases leading upwards.
“Okay, you filthy animals. Upstairs we got an all-you-can-eat buffet of dirt-kebabs, bark de bonsai, and a soup made from the most exquisite of squirrel droppings. Knock yourselves out.”
The trolls became jubilant at this news and raced up the stairs. Even the guard that had been watching Rotnart barreled past others. Some of the slower trolls cold-cocked their neighbors by punching them in the face as hard as they could.
Rabuf sighed and smiled at the good-natured troll fun. “I meant that you should go up the stairs and partake of the food, but whatever.”
The few more dimwitted giants finally caught on and lumbered after their comrades. After a few moments, the basement was nearly empty. Save for a few trolls that slumbered on the floor and a small female troll that stood near Rabuf. To his disgust, it was one of those repugnant mutant trolls that he had encountered in Ponyville. Now that he had a good look at the strange looking thing, the freakish she-troll looked like it had more in common with a squirrel with its twitching furry tail and enormous buck teeth. Rotnart hoped that his brother wasn’t making any more of these abominations.
Rabuf strolled from the organ to meet his brother, the smaller troll advancing in his wake. Rotnart was struck by the way his younger sibling carried himself. Gone was the incompetent clumsy troll who had bumbled about and (even by troll standards) had been mentally deficient. The younger troll was still dressed in rags but walked like a King. Rabuf came right up to his brother and without missing a beat embraced him. embraced him as best he could given his brother’s movement restrictions. While maintaining the hug, Rabuf said, “It’s good to see you bro. I thought we lost you there for a while. How’s it hanging?”
Rotnart looked around the basement before finally glancing back at Rabuf. He shrugged and waved his manacled hand in a gesture that meant, “Could be better. Could be worse.”
Rabuf sighed. “The woodpecker curse is a pain in the rear for everyone.” Rotnart’s younger brother turned to his companion. “The King needs a voice.”
“What kind of voice?” asked the other troll with relish.
Rabuf thought for a moment. “Eh, surprise me.”
“With pleasure.”
Rotnart’s wooden eyes widened with shock as a beam of light shot out of the palm of the little she-troll. The lance of magic connected underneath his chin. The sensation was not unpleasant. He could feel something in his throat knit back together that had been sundered when he took on the wood curse.
“Go ahead, try it out.”
Rotnart cleared his throat. It sounded like someone was running over gravel with a truck. “It’s about time.” The wooden troll paused after hearing what he just said. “You Fu(*king C#$k suckers.”
Rabuf and his bodyguard tried to suppress their mirth for all of two seconds before dissolving into gales of laughter. Rotnart was furious with his new high-pitched and absurdly squeaky voice. He struggled against his iron bindings but to no avail. “Rabuf. I swear on our Father’s exploded corpse I will drown you and your pet freak in milk if you don’t change my voice right now.”
Rabuf wiped a tear from his eye. “Forgive me, brother. I’ll have Hctorc Retib give you a new voice.” After several giggles the troll regained his composure. “Let me ask you something first. Why did you betray us?”
The question was asked with a smile, but even so Rotnart could feel the temperature in the room drop. He knew that he’d have to be very careful about what he said next. “I’m no traitor. I sacrificed myself for you so you could get away and carry on our father’s work.” The wooden troll looked at the mutant. “And I can say with absolute certainty you screwed the pooch on that one. What’d you do? Grab a couple of squirrels and stick them in the tree? I can $!@* a better troll than her.”
With a gesture, the mutant stopped the magic that was supplying Rotnart’s voice. And with a word, her hands ignited into two emerald flames.
Rotnart’s jaw dropped in horror. He was all too aware just how flammable he was in his current form. He tried to yell at his brother to call her off but realized that he could no longer talk. The little monster advanced with malice in her eyes. Rabuf watched the spectacle with interest as Rotnart flailed uselessly. Hctorc Retib bent down on one knee and pointed a flaming finger up at the sole of the wooden troll’s foot.
The Troll King silently screamed as the mutant burned him. The agony was beyond anything Rotnart had ever experienced in his life. The torture seemed to last for an eternity, and the smell of burning wood filled the basement.
“Alright. Enough with the foot tickling,” Rabuf finally said.
And just like that, the tourture stopped.
While Rotnart writhed in pain he heard his brother say. “I used three opossum dolls, a squirrel, and that one doll that looks like a furry goat lizard. I nearly took over the town with just 50 of them. All in all, I think things turned out okay.”
Trying to focus on something other than the pain, Rotnart thought of his brother’s words. Furry goat monster? Discord? He used the Discord doll to create her? His thoughts were interrupted when he felt that familiar tingling feeling in his throat. He glanced at his tormenter and sure enough the little mutant was using her magic again.
“Now about what went down in the town. You stopped a perfectly good baby opossum harvesting operation. Why?” asked Rabuf.
Rotnart gathered his thoughts and ignored the burnt wood smell. Why did he save that pony with the pink bow in her mane? He could have just let the ambush happen and rejoin his kin. But for some reason that had felt wrong. Did he actually care about what happened to that pony and her friends he saved? To his dismay, he knew the answer to that question. He also knew there was no way he would leave this basement alive if he told his brother this revelation. He needed an answer that wouldn’t get him killed. An excuse formed in his mind that wasn’t half bad. And better yet, it was true. “Because I don’t want my brothers and sisters working for that evil alicorn b!3ch.” The Troll King was annoyed that his voice was still high and squeaky, but he bit his tongue. “The Pony of Shadows is using us, Rabuf. She’s using you. I’ve seen her mind. We’re as disposable as yesterday’s C*m napkin to her. Once we’ve conquered this planet, she’ll kill us all.”
Rabuf stroked his chin. “That’ll be tough for her to do if she’s dead.”
Rotnart looked at his brother with genuine curiosity. “Dead? You killed her?”
“Naw. Another flying opossum did that. The way I understand it from our eyes and ears in the air, our black flying opossum was fighting a dark blue flying opossum. The blue opossum that was fighting our black opossum was losing, so she puked up a meaner angrier second black opossum. Now this new black opossum ate our black opossum. Make sense so far?”
The wooden troll shook his head.
Rabuf continued. “So no matter how you split it, we’re down a black opossum. So these two other opossums fight it out, and the blue opossum that puked up the meaner, angrier black opossum ate the meaner, angrier black opossum. So now there’s only one opossum that flies and has a horn on its head.” Rabuf thought for a moment. “Oh, the meaner angrier black opossum was making this big cloud in the sky for some reason, but now it's gone.”
“And good riddance. I sensed powerful magic coming from that cumulous,” Hctorc Retib chimed in.
Rotnart’s brain hurt from his brother’s explanation of the aerial battle. He had caught glimpses of the struggle when he was still with the Crusaders. From what he could glean, The Pony of Shadow was gone, that much was certain. That would mean that the Princess he had released had to be the one who had bested her. That was also a piece of information he resolved not to share with his sibling. Rotnart looked over to the white unicorn. “Where does he fit into all this?”
Rabuf didn’t answer his brother at first. Instead the younger troll was taking a good long look at his older sibling as if seeing him for the first time. A bad feeling settled in the pit of Rotnart’s stomach. He knew what his brother was thinking. Finally Rabuf said, “That's a good question. But I have a better one. Which opossum did you free?” The younger troll wagged his finger at his older brother. “You know you shouldn’t be doing that.”
And there it was. Rotnart would have asked the same if he was in Rabuf’s shoes. He was almost glad he was turned to wood so that he couldn’t sweat. “I, I turned one of those horses that the Pony of Shadows warned us about back. If I hadn’t, they would have killed me.”
Rabuf nodded to Hctorc Retib. One of her hands reignited, and she took a step forward towards Rotnart. “Which one?” she asked.
“I don’t know!” screamed Rotnart. “The one with wings and a blue coat. I don’t know their Fu##ing names!”
Rabuf motioned to his bodyguard to back down. “Okay, I think I know which one he’s talking about. According to our now very dead black opossum friend, it’s the opossum that flies real fast, has rainbow tail fur, and has a bit of an attitude. Right?”
Rotnart nodded in relief. “Yeah, sure that’s her.”
“He’s lying,” Hctorc Retib declared.
“No, I’m not,” pleaded Rotnart. Anger warred with terror when the little mutant ratted him out.
“Your heart says otherwise,” the little troll shot back. “I can hear it beat faster all the way from over here.”
Rotnart bit back a curse. He could actually hear his heart pumping. It sounded like a woodpecker trying to break free from his chest. He had heard it before when he freed the alicorn, and she was deciding his fate. Breathing deeply, he tried to slow his heart so it was less audible.
Rabuf favored his brother with a penetrating stare. Just like Princess Luna, another was deciding his destiny. At last Rabuf pointed to the bound pony next to Rotnart. “We picked him up close to the opossum town. The symbol things on his armor suggests that he’s an honest to Trantor Prince of the Crystal Empire.”
“Crystal Empire?” The name sent a chill down Rotnart’s wooden spine. He knew of that place even though he’d never heard its name. He thought about the memories and experiences he had inherited from his father. He could almost hear Trantor’s voice bellowing orders to legions of troll warriors. He could feel the snow pelting his face as he advanced towards an enormous pony city. He battled ponies trying to resist the might of King Sombra. And then to his horror, the city itself attacked from its highest point. A great multi-colored beam of weaponized love reached out and decimated his warriors by the thousands. He was running, all order and semblance of command were gone. Survival was the objective. He and what was left of the army charged forward into the city, through the climate barrier that protected the metropolis from the elements and . . .
“You see it too, don’t you?” asked Rabuf.
Rotnart blinked and took in a deep lungful of air. The memory had been so real. “I remember the Crystal Empire.”
Rabuf sighed. “I’ll be honest. Many of my new friends say I should kill you, bro.”
“I voted to off you,” Hctorc Retib said happily.
The troll leader grinned as he took in Rotnart’s horrified look. “And to be honest, that might not be the worst idea a gang of trolls ever came up with. Some of what you’re saying doesn't smell right. I can’t quite sink my teeth into it, but something’s wrong with you. Between you fighting our new brothers and sisters and you looking like a wood chipper’s wet dream, that should be enough to send you down below to meet dad.”
The little troll nodded in agreement.
Panic gripped Rotnart’s breast. His heart felt like it would explode. It was beating so hard. “No! N,N,No-. Not after everything I’ve done for our people!” The fear coursing through his body made his voice rise even higher. “Brother. How can you do this? Remember all the good times we had?” He glanced around the basement. “When we explored this place together? When we almost took over Ponyville? Just the two of us. You and me. Didn’t you like being my wing-troll? My number two?”
Rabuf’s face darkened. “I’m talking to the biggest pile of number two I’ve ever seen.”
The venom in his brother’s voice left the wooden troll stunned. “But you . . .”
“But what?” asked Rabuf. “Did you think I liked following you around and taking your crap? I’ve lost count of how many times you threatened to kill me. Just because I was born with half a thinker doesn’t make me a moron. The only reason I put up with you and that black Opossum of Shadows is so that I could get where I’m standing right now. If people and opossums think that you’re the biggest idiot that ever lived, they let their guard down. So who's the bigger dummy? The dummy about to take over the world or the high and mighty wood king chained to a wall?”
Rotnart’s head drooped down in resignation. He closed his eyes in defeat and waited.
“You’re lucky I still have a use for you. Otherwise I’d use your wooden hide for fire kindling.
Rotnart slowly tilted his head back up. “What do you want?”
Rabuf spoke slowly. “Ernest P. Worrell is back.”
Hctorc Retib swallowed nervously. Her eyes twitched about the room in fear at the mention of the human’s name.
The older troll blinked a couple of times. “Okay. What do you want me to do about it?”
Rabuf frowned. “I’d thought you would be more surprised. Our father’s killer is in Opossumville. And didn’t you say a bear ate him or something?”
Rotnart shook his head. “Discord implied he was probably being eaten by a bear. And no, I’m not surprised. That man has invisible god-tier plot armor that’s three and a half feet thick. Our father survived being enslaved by King Sombra, the Crystal Heart Wars, and two hundred years of imprisonment underneath an oak. He’s broken the backs of countless pony armies by himself and turned entire towns into dolls.” He started to laugh, his voice taking on a high-pitched yipping sound. “And this hayseed, good for nothing bumpkin is the one who laid him low.”
Rabuf smiled. “Yeah, when you put it like that, it is kind of funny.” The troll sobered quickly. “You know what else is funny?” Not waiting for a reply Rabuf continued talking. “Take a look at this.” The new troll king reached into one of his pockets. In his grubby hand was a piece of well-abused lavender paper. Rabuf unfolded the parchment, looked at it, and wiped it on his tunic. “I had my finest opossum decrypters go over this. They think the message is legit.” Rabuf walked forward and thrust the paper at Rotnart’s eyes so he could read it.
The wooden golem stared at the paper for about a minute. Finally Rotnart looked at his brother, confusion written all over his face. “They can’t be serious.”
“I know, right? Even though we got 'em on the ropes, those crazy critters want us to do what they want.” Rabuf started to count on his fingers. “First they want us to turn their lucky special tree back to the way it was. Second, they want us to turn all those opossum dolls back to the way they were.” Rabuf was about to count down to his third finger when he hesitated and turned to his helper. “What comes after second?”
“Third, sir,” replied Hctorc Retib.
“And third, not only do they want their boy back. . .” Rabuf said, nodding at the white unicorn. “They also want you.”
“Which is another reason why we should kill him added to the mountain of other reasons we should kill him,” Hctorc Retib muttered darkly.
Rabuf continued as if his subordinate had not spoken. “After we’ve done all that and some other stuff, they’ll let us live on a frozen reservation somewhere close to the Crystal Empire where they can murder us with love magic whenever they feel like. And you know what? This sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
The magic user looked at her leader quizzically. “What?”
Rotnart was also looking at his brother with amazement. “Really?”
Rabuf laughed. “Hell no. Here’s what I’m thinking. We send them our own message saying that we’ll do whatever they want only if they give us Ernest P. Worrell to do with as we want.
Rotnart laughed in his brother’s face. “They’re not that stupid. They’ll know it’s a trap. Our kind have pulled stunts like this in the past.”
The younger troll shrugged. “Maybe it’ll work, maybe not. But what I do know is that if they don’t show up with Ernest P. Worrell at a time and place of my choosing, then both you and the Prince will have a date with the pointy end of my sword.”
Hctorc Retib smiled at that.
Rotnart gulped and changed the subject. “Okay. But what if they do?”
“Then you get a shot at proving you're still a troll by helping us kill Ernest. As you say, they’ll probably know it’s a trap, and it’ll take a lot of troll flesh to bring this human demi-god down. If you do that, then me and the tribe will welcome you back into the fold with open arms. Splinters and all.”