//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: The Crown of Eques // by PTBonesbeard //------------------------------// Garard emerged from the Earth. Digging his claws into the tufted sod, he hulled his stiff body up and onto the grassy slope. Using a combination of a red health and green stamina potions, he had fought off the spider's poison. But it was still doing a number on him. With Peatmoss pushing him, they were barely able to reach the hole. Huffing and puffing, Peatmoss emerged after him. "Oh good Goddesses!" he exclaimed "Fresh air how I've missed you." Garard shielded his face with a arm as Peat gave himself a vigorous shake. Flinging bits of dirt and spider slime in all directions. "Ug. I can't believe you fought off all those," He paused and shuttered. "things!" "What? huff, Spiders? huff, No biggie." he replied between pants. "They're just, like, big crabs." "Crabs that suck your innards out through straws maybe." Garard said as he sat up and started picking strands of webbing out of his feathers and fur. "Those things, yuck, too many eyes and legs." "Well, I'm not bothered so much. I kinda like the sound they make when you stomp em. Kinda cathartic." Garard turned a little green and put a talon to his beak with a lurch. Sitting up, Peatmoss took a minute to marvel at the afternoon veiw. Below them he could see a river coming out of a valley and feeding into a long lake too the west. Too the northeast he can see a huge field stretching into the distance. And in the east all he saw is mountainous terrain. "What's that there?" he asked Garard. pointing to the mountain across the valley. Nestled against it's peak is a big stone house surrounded by tall spires of standing stone. "That's Feather Fall barrow. it's an ancient pegasus burial ground. At least it used to be, during the first age. Now there's not many native Pegasi left in Crown. Except to the far west. Now it's more likely a den for thieves and other outcasts. If you look down there were the river comes out of the valley, you can make out the outskirts of Riverdale, my hometown." he finished. Pointing out the spot. "If we fly, we can make it by nightfall." "Are you feeling better? I mean, good enough to fly?" "Just a little stiff." Garard answered as he stood and stretched. "It may be a bit hard at first, but it'll help my recovery." They both spread their wings and took flight. After a few minutes of flight, Peatmoss realized flying was harder then he remembered. He was having a difficult time keeping pace with the griffin. "Hold up!" he shouted, and Garard slowed down till he reached his side. "What's the deal?!" he panted. "It feels like I'm fighting a headwind and a downdraft at the same time!" "Not used to high altitude flight?" "What do you mean high altitude?!" he asked incredulously. "We can't be much more than three hundred feet in the air." "No. I mean the air is thinner near the Pinnacle then down south." "How can air be thin or fat? You're talking crazy." Garard slapped his forehead. "No. I mean, it's like." Garard stammered, trying to explain in a way the foreigner would understand. "Listen, let's land down at the river's edge and I'll explain it while we wash. I don't want to walk into town looking like we crawled out of our grave." Landing as lightly as his wings would allow, he plodded over to the water's edge. Dragging his tired aching wings along the ground as he went, he Dropped his sacks on the ground. Garard on the other hoof, dropped from the sky right into deeper water. Sticking his hoof into the crystal clear water, he suddenly yanked it back out with a hiss of shock. "Merciful Celestia that's cold!" he said. Just then the griffin surfaced and looked back at him. "Are you coming in or what?" "How are you not an icecube right now?" Peatmoss asked in astonishment as he watched him dunk his head several times and ruffle his feathers. "You have to do it fast." he replied, as if it were obvious. Biting his lip, Peatmoss mustered the strength to fly out to a deeper spot. Taking a deep breath, he let go of the air and plunged down hooves first into the water. Any warmth he had was sucked away and if he hadn't taken a deep breath before, he was sure he would've sucked in over a gallon. Bursting back to the surface, he thrashed about till his rear hooves touched the river bed. Wrapping his forehooves around himself, he turned about till he saw Garard pulling himself out and shakeing off. "I thought you said it would be better to do it fast?" he asked through chattering teeth. His body trembled uncontrollably. "It does when you hurry up and scrub all that dirt and gunk off yourself. Then you can get out faster." Being the youngest brother of the family made him used to being the butt of numerous pranks and tricks. So it mollified the anger at the little trick the griffin had pulled. Knowing there was nothing for it, he quickly set about scrubbing away at every inch he could. The glacial runoff carrying away all the filth and debris he had collected since he left home. When he did finish and pull himself out, he realized he had gotten used to it. That is to say, he couldn't feel anything anymore. Giving himself a long shake, he walked over to Garard who was busy preening his wing feathers. Sitting down, he leveled an even stare at him till he took notice. With a cheeky grin pulling at the corners of his beak, he asked. "What?" "Alright." Peatmoss said with a wet snort. "You had your fun. Now what?" "Ok. ok." he said. Stifling a chuckle. "Let me take that wet coat off you so you can dry off faster." In a minute Iron's old coat was off and hanging in the branches next to Garard's gambeson. He went about tending to his own wing feathers as Garard informed him of the nuances of flight in the Crown vs down south. Apparently the land of Crown was at such a high altitude above sea level, that you basically had to double your wing speed, repeating of course, every couple miles up you went. And at the top of the tallest mountain in Crown, that being Pinnacle, you were practically in space. Being a pegasus, it made sense that the air got less dense the higher you went. So theoretically the farther you go up, the more wing beats per minute you had to do. So basically, until I improved my wing strength, flying around Crown was going to be a big pain in the flank. Or withers in this case. And on top of that, he said that bandits loved using big, slow, flying targets, as shooting practice. So much for Pegasi perks. I was going to have to rely on my hooves and keep my wings ready for emergencies. Before long, his fur upgraded from soking to mostly damp and they headed to the hamlet on hoof. Since Garard had grown up here, he didn't need a road to find his way in the waning light. The village of Riverdale was a tight packed group of six houses and a detached sawmill. There was stone gateways at the front and back were the main road passed through, and wooden palisade made up the rest of the defensive wall. Two wooden walkways connected the water powered mill to town, and it was one of these we took to reach it. Rounding the main structure, we found a female griffin working a plank of wood with a bladed tool. She glanced at us then did a double take. "Garard?! Is that you?!" she asked as she abandoned her work to hug him. "hello Gertrude." he replied. gingerly returning the embrace "You're sopping wet! What are you doing here? What happened?" "Gertrude please." he said trying to pull away. Embarrassed at her display of concern. Peatmoss had to cover his mouth with a hoof to hide the smile at Garard's reddening look. "Who's this? One of your comrades?" she asked. Spotting Peat behind him. "No. He's a friend." he began, then stammered. "Well, I actually accidentally got him in trouble while I was at the rim. It's a long story but, if it weren't for his help I probably won't have made it here alive." Peatmoss was surprised when she bounded past Garard and put a talon on his forehead. "By the great egg! he's as cold as the grave." She glared back at him. "Have you been throwing creatures in the river again?" "Gertrude no. Not really." he answered. Scratching the side of his head. "You never change do you?" she scolded before turning to the mill and shouting. "Kyle! Come here. I need to talk to you!" "Can't it wait till after dark?" came an answering call. "I want to get," "Kyle! Get down here now! It's urgent." "Alright! I'm coming." "It's no trouble miss Gertrude." Assured Peat. "All I need is a warm place to lay down an," "You shush now." she commanded. So he shut his mouth. The mill ground to a halt and another griffin flitted down to join them. "Garard? What are you here for? I thought you were still up north." "Kyle. I need to get my stupid brother and his friend here back to the house right away before they catch their death of cold." "Gertrude!" Garard complained with a huff. But she paid him no mind. "I need you to clean up here and then fetch your son. Can you handle that?" Kyle sighed. before answering "Yes Gertrude Dear." "And don't forget to disengage the weel this time." she ordered as she scooped up Peat and carried him through the air. he opened his mouth to protest being treated like an invalid, but she silenced him with a look. Flying the short distance across town they arrived at a two story house and were ushered in. Placing Peatmoss on a wooly rug in front of the fireplace she took a blanket off a nearby chair and put it around him. Then grabbing Garard, Gertrude puts him in the chair. "Gertrude." he said. Waving her off as she fussed with wrapping him in a blanket. "We're grown-ups. We don't need you mothering us like hatchlings. She fixed him with a hard look and crossed her arms. "Some soup and I'll tell you all about it." She gave an exasperated huff and stalked off to the pantry. Standing, Garard added two pieces of wood to the fire and took a stoneware jug from the mantle. Pouring out two mugs, he handed one to Peat. Raising his mug he toasts "To Iron Bloom! May she rest in glory." He held his mug out and clinked it against Peatmoss's and they both took a sip. "To Jarl Balgriff! May he reach Stormhelm in safety." This time Peat met his mug with a clink. "To the Stormwings! May they cast down the false king and restore the land of Crown! And drive out the hated Equestrian Imperials!" He held out his mug. Peatmoss hesitated, then lowered his mug and stared down into it. "You do not toast the cause?" asked Garard with a puzzled look. Still holding his mug out. "I don't feel right wishing misfortune on others. I'm not from Crown, and I don't know anything about the politics or it's creatures." "Oh." stated Garard as he turned his eyes to the fire. "To the good creatures of Crown?" he offered, holding his mug up. Garard looked at him, thought a few seconds, then nodded, clinked Peat's mug and they both drank. "Enough of that now." cut in Gertrude as she handed Garard a bowl and put another on the floor in front of Peat. "You keep drinking like that and you'll be to addled in the head to tell me anything." Pulling a chair up, she sat between them. "Oh right." Garard said. Taking a sip of soup. "Where to begin?" He gave his beak a scratch, then started. "Jarl Balgriff, me, and several others traveled down to the crystal rim and were waiting there for a corespondent from Griffin Heights. They were running late and the local city guard caught us in an ambush after inviting us in. No doubt some Loyalist paid them off, because minutes later an army of them rolled up and took us captive. That's when I met Meadblood here. I mistook him for one of our own on account of the same colorings of his clothes. He tried to break out and one of the guards laid him out by breaking his jaw. We tried to convince them that he wasn't part of us, but they wouldn't hear of it. That was yesterday afternoon." "We were then taken by wagon to Squirestone this morning. They lined us up and started cutting off heads, when a dragon attacked the keep. I think it smelled the treasure we had taken with us. The Horn of Cornucopia." "The Horn?!" exclaimed Gertrude. "What were you doing with that so far from safety?" "Balgriff had a plan to use it as a bargaining chip to force a peaceful resolution. Since the battle of the Bowl, the Stormwings have been loosing ground. We're getting close to our last legs. So few holds are willing to stand with us anymore. If Jarl Balgriff doesn't make it back to Stormhelm, we may very well be lost." "All I know is he made it over the wall, but if he escaped the dragon? I don't know. We got separated and driven into the keep. If it hadn't been for Meadblood here. I would have died there. Once we made it out thru the caves, we headed straight here. I'm planning on being off to Stormhelm tomorrow." Garard said with finality. Tucking into his soup. Peat had started his, but it stank of fish. So he had been nursing it so as to not upset Garard's sister. "If it's true, and my thick headed brother isn't playing it up, you have my thanks Meadblood." Gertrude said to him, offering him a carrot. "Sometimes he can be so reckless." He took the carrot eagerly and munched away. "That brings us to you Meadblood." said Garard as he finished his soup. "Tell us. If you are new to Crown, and don't wish to join the fight. What interest would bring you so far from home?" Peat was caught off guard. Sure he knew he would have to explain his presence at some time. But if he were honest with himself, he didn't know. "You're a foreigner?" asked Gertrude. "Were do you come from? Is it far? don't tell me you're one of those Equestrian invaders?" "Sister please." Garard cut her off. "If you would shut your beak for a second and let him speak." She shot him a scowl. "Go on Meadblood. Tell us" "It's ok." he began. "There's not much to tell." I come from the, Sugartop mountain area." That wasn't really a lie. "I felt restless at home and felt the urge to travel. I heard some rumors of Crown. The books said it was where our kind originated, and thought that there's no time like the present to visit. I had money and supplies for the trip. But I lost it all at rim. In my head I know I should go back to the safety of home. But after what I've seen and done, I don't think I can." "You're a pilgrim then." said Garard. "You seek answers in strange places?" "I suppose you can call it that." he answered. looking into the fire. "Well, if it's answers you seek, then I can think of no better place to start then Feather Fall barrow." "That filthy old dungeon?!" Gertrude interjected. "How can you say that?! It's full of ghosts, brigands, traps, and who knows what else." "Sister. If the Ancestors have called him here, who are we to deny them?" "But what if you're sending him to his death?" "Is that what you thought when I left to join the Stormwings? for all we know, they may have sent me to guide him." her mouth opened to object farther but paused. "The ancestors must be crazy." she murmured. Crossing her arms and looking away. "Well then Meadblood. I suppose tomorrow we'll be parting ways. If you don't find what you seek in the barrow, then consider coming to Stormhelm. I will personally vouch for you. The Stormwings need capable creatures like you. No matter where from, or what they were born as." "Very well." said Gertrude with a huff. " I'll prepare the bed upstairs and see to it you're not disturbed." *** In his sleep he saw memories of the places he saw while he had travelled north. They came and faded. Then he saw Linen weave filled with arrows, fall to the ground in his desperate bid for freedom. Dark Claws severed head laying by the bloody block. Iron Bloom's wounded body going still as she bled out. Then he saw himself standing over Juniper's lifeless body. He wore a grim smile on his face. "Do or die. Kill or be killed." he stated flatly. "There are no good or bad ponies in this land. Only the survivers." Peat watched as Blood pooled on the floor. It moved as if it was alive, crawling up his hooves. He pulled them away and looked at them closely. They were so red. Then he heard a sniffing sound. Looking up, he saw only a dark grassy plane all around him. Endless fields of tall swishing grass. Turning about he looked for the source of the sound but it seemed to come from any direction he turned. He didn't know how he knew, but whatever was making that sniffing sound was smelling the blood on his hooves. * * * The next day Peatmoss awoke to some creature stroking his head and brushing at his mane. Opening his eyes and looking around, he saw he was still laying in front of the fireplace. Garard and Gertrude were nowhere in sight. The blanket was gone, and in it's place was his coat was laying over him. The one petting him was a young griffin child. He was mostly white, with grey and black markings, and dark grey beak. He wore a dark green tunic and a wide brown belt with a brass buckle. "Uh, good morning?" Peatmoss asked as he pushed the talon away from his head. "Good morning." the griffin replied innocently before reaching for his head again. "My name's Peatmoss by the way." he said as he deflected the reaching talon away. "Please stop that." "Oh sorry." the griffin replied. looking down and twiddling his claws. "Why are you named after dirt?" he then asked glancing at his exposed cutie mark with a quizzical look. "Then call me Meadblood if you must." He replied. Sitting up he began to put on his coat. "Meadblood. Ya that's cooler." the griffin affirmed. Peat was having trouble getting his wings through the holes and after a few failed attempts he, with reluctance, allowed the griffin to help. But stopped him when he tried to do the buttons. "Where are your parents?" Peat asked as he, using a combination of forehooves and wing tips, buttoned up his coat. "Mom an dad are at the mill. Uncle Garard left about an hour ago. Told me to take care of you till you left town." "Did he now?" he asked sceptically. "Yup" The griffin replied. Peatmoss shouldered his bags and noticed they felt heavier than he remembered. Opening them up he found a note. "Meadblood." "I met Ferris and Wilferd in town and we split up the loot from Squirestone. I hope it will help you get back on your hooves. I'm sorry once again for getting you mixed up with us. If there's anything you need from me or my family that we can provide, don't hesitate to ask. I owe you my life. If you don't find what you're looking for in the barrow, please consider coming to Stormhelm." Garard. Checking inside he found (105) gold pieces, and the sword. As well as a bunch of stuff he didn't remember putting in there. "Well at least it's a start. I'll have to find a shop to unload this useless stuff for supplies." he thought to himself. "Ok. I guess it's time I get going." he announced as he took one last look around the house. "It was nice meeting you, Um, What's your name?" "Gene" "Gene. Good bye Gene." As he walked to the door he felt a sudden weight land on his back. Looking back he found Gene seated on top of his wings. The griffin's hindpaws astride him. "I always wanted a pony." he replied to Peat's questioning look. "Well sorry, but this one's not for sale." he said. sitting down causing the griffin to slide off. "Are you really from outside Crown?" the little griffin asked. following him outside. "yes." he answered. Trying to ignore the tagalong. "Did you really fight a horde of spiders?" "Yes" "Do you make rainbows when you fly?" "No" "Do all ponies have cutie marks?" "Yes" "What does your cutie mark mean?" Peatmoss stopped in the middle of the path and hung his head with a sigh. "You're going to keep bugging me till I give you a ride aren't you?" he asked looking back wearily. "Yup." Gene replied with a smile. "Alright. Climb aboard." "Yipy!" Gene cheered as he jumped up on his back. Grabing a fist ful of Peat's mane he shouted. "Hi ho Peaty! Away!" Peatmoss gave him an angry scowl. "Sorry." Peat gave him a warning snort before continuing down the path. "So Gene, do you know which house is the store?" "Yup!" Gene replied cheerily. Swinging his paws back and forth as they went. "Alright point the way." "Down this path. Turn left. Follow that path to the main road. Turn left again. And the Woodlyn Trader is the second house on the left." Peatmoss could tell without looking that Gene was having the time of his life by the way he bounced and swayed. "Good morning Gene. I see you finally got yourself a pony." said a griffin leaning against a short wall. "No. I'm just giving him a ride." interjected Peat. Trying to preserve his dignity. After the short walk thru town, Peat was thoroughly fed up with correcting townsfolk on complementing Gene on "HIS" horsy. Entering the trade house, he saw the griffin shopkeeper ranting to himself as he rearranged his display shelf. "If I put this here then this, no then that clashes with. But if I slide that over, I could maybe put this. Ag! No! Nothing works!" "Uh, did I come at a bad time?" asked Peat as he approached the counter. "Yes!" snapped the shop owner. Slamming his talons down on the counter top. Then his demeanor quickly changed when he saw the two before him. "Oh Gene. It's you." he recomposed himself. "Sorry. I'm just having trouble reorganizing my display after a robbery." He glared at the shelf for a few seconds before turning his attention back and casting a appraising look over Gene's mount. "Nice ride. looking to sell?" "That's it! Rides over." Peat said dropping his butt to the floor, causing Gene to tumble off onto his back. "What's that you said about a robbery? Peat asked. Putting his hooves on the counter to get a good look over the display. "It was a, ornamental wing." he said. Pointing to a center framed spot on the shelf among various golden treasures and jeweled baubles. "Solid gold I'm sure. It was the pride and joy of my collection. Not something I would part with for cheap. Then some cheap-plot unicorn came in and tried to haggle it to nothing. Told him to pound gravel. Then he flashed me. The next thing I knew, it was gone and the horn head with it." "I saw those guys." piped up Gene. "Heard they were going up to the barrow." "Arg! May Tirek rain fire down on their heads!" cursed the shop keeper. "I'm planning on heading up there today. Maybe I could find them and get it back." "Is that so?" asked the griffin scratching his beak. "Sure. All I need is to sell this useless stuff for some supplies and I'll be on my way." Peat turned his head to grab the sack, but Gene pluckked them from his back and began emptying them out on the counter. Peat gave him a look before turning his attention back to the shop keep, as he rifled through the heap and tallied up it's value. "Tell you what." said the griffin as he counted out two hundred and thirty two gold. "If you catch that thief and bring back my wing, I'll give you everything you buy today a full refund. plus another five hundred for his head." Peatmoss stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Or his horn at least." "I'll keep that in mind." muttered Peat as he flushed the thought. After buying his supplies along with bandages and as many health potions he could carry, he browsed the saddle packs. Unfortunately they were all far too expensive for his little wallet. Then the shop keeper suggested he check with the blacksmith across the street. said he might find something more in his poverty level. At the blacksmith he was able to get a side saddle bag and frog for the sword. He wished he could have traded in the sword for something shorter and less unwieldy. At his wallet's level of hunger, he would have to make do. As he left the blacksmith, he felt a now familiar weight alight on his back. "Hello Gene." he sighed. "For a moment there I thought you had found something else to bug." "Nope." came his cheerful reply. "You're going up to the barrow now?" Looking back he saw him carrying a short bow and a quiver of arrows. "Yup. Are you doing archery practice?" Peat asked as they were exiting the north gate of town. "Every morning." Gene replied with a chipper smile. "Alright. Good luck with that." Peat stopped and looked back at him, waiting expectingly. "What?" Gene asked at his look. "Off you go then." "But I want to go with you." Peat gave him a flat scowl. "Nope." he sat down causing Gene to tumble off. "But uncle Garard told me to look after you!" he argued. jumping to his paws and matching his pace. "You said, he told you only till I left town." He gesgered back towards the gate. "It's just up the mountain." "No. It's too dangerous." "I've got a bow. I can shoot things from safety. Can you shoot things?" "I don't care if it were right outside the town wall!" Peatmoss asurted. Stamping his hoof. "I'm not taking you with me. I don't want to be responsible if you get hurt. Go home Gene!" He finished. jabbing his hoof back at the town. Not waiting for a futher response, Peatmoss spread his wings and took flight. Flying up the road for a couple of minutes before checking behind to be sure Gene hadn't followed. Once done, he turned his attention back to the path up the mountain. He could see it did a series of switchbacks up the mountain side. So he took irregular flying hops to shortcut the travel distance. After a good half hour he really was feeling the strain. His pace slowed as he drew closer to the barrow. "Upward travel is definitely harder than cross-country." he panted to himself as he crested the ridge to the plateau. It had patches of old snow and sheets of half melted ice as the sun tried it's best to shed the coat of winter. But the chill in the air fought it tooth and nail. Taking a short break, he drank some water and allowed the cold wind to dry the sweat on his coat before pressing on. Walking in among the stone pillars, he found old bones sticking out of the slumping snow drifts. But what creeped him more was the sound of hollow pony bones hanging from ledges of the pillars clinking in the wind. Throu the forest of pillars the stone house came in to veiw. Easily three times the size of the town houses, it hosted a pare of dubble doors and slit windows. "What have we here?" said a voice behind him as he walked in to the open in front of the building. "Stupid idiot!" he thought to himself. "I knew other creatures were up here, and I walked right in like a fool." "Sorry. I don't mean to intrude. I'm just passing through." he said as he turned to the speaker. The creature blocking the way back was a ragged looking griffin. He stood a head taller than Peat and was dressed in a coarse weave shirt with bones woven thru the fabric. The black, oddly shaped knife held in his talon gave evidence to his intentions. "You picked a bad time to get lost pony." the griffin said. Menacing with the knife as he stepped closer. "I'm not lost. I just came to visit, my Ancestors." Peatmoss backed up. "There'll be plenty of time for that later pony." said another. Appearing seemingly out of nowhere and landing behind him. This one had a similar style of clothes, but held a black, battered, short sword. It looked like it had been used to chop down a tree. "Give us all your gold and maybe we'll forget we saw you." "You want my gold? Here take it." he tossed the one with the knife his pouch of twenty some coins. "Take it and leave me alone." Plucking it from the ground the griffin gave it a shake. "I don't think it's enough. What do you think?" he asked the other. "I think a leg or two will fit the bill." he said. Poking Peat in the rump with his blunted sword. "Yeah!" said the first. waving his knife. "I haven't had fresh horse in over a month." Peatmoss, seeing they had reached a consensus that a peaceful resolution was off the table, stepped away. Drawing his sword, Meadblood lunged and slashed the knife wielder across the chest. His strange attire doing little to stop the blade from opening him up. The griffin stumbled back, trying in vain to hold himself together. Meadblood spun around just in time to block a downward stroke of the other griffin's sword. The reverberation of the blow sending nails of pain through his recently mended jaw. Fortunately he managed to hold onto his sword and jump back into the air hoping to gain a hight advantage. But his gambit was dashed when the griffin launched himself, sword point first into Meadblood's gut. Do to the sword's blunt tip, it didn't skewer him. His coat was thick enough to stop the point, but it crushed his gut. He dropped hard to the ground struggling to breathe as his sword clattered away. Annoyed by the non-fatal attack, the griffin dropped his and snatched up Meadblood's. Raising himself up to deliver the killing blow, an arrow shaft thudded into his chest. As the griffin stumbled back, Peat tried to crawl away but he was still wheezing trying to breathe. Lurching forward, determined to kill, the griffin swings and another shaft hits him in the head. Teetering there for a second before collapsing backward. Finally Peatmoss's diaphragm figured out how to work again and he sucked in a gulp of air. "Are you alright?" asked Gene as he came in for a landing. "Gene?! Didn't I tell you to go home?" Peat asked in angry astonishment. Nursing his bruised gut. "I was but, you saved uncle Garard. And since he had to go back to Stormhelm, there was no way he could repay his debt." "And that's what you think you're doing?" "Yeah! You could've died just now." "You're just a kid! I had everything under control." "I'm eleven years old! Well ten and a half. But still!" Peatmoss gave a sigh "Well. Then congrats. You saved me. Now go home." Gene looked towards Riverdale, then back at Peat and crossed his arms. "No." "This isn't a game Gene. You could get seriously hurt. And I'll be responsible for it!" "Make me pony." Peatmoss scrunched up his muzzle in frustration at the insolent youth. "Does your mother know?" Gene's eyes went wide and he looked around as if she might pop out of nowhere and start scolding him. "Please don't tell mom." he said. staring down at his bow and picking at the grip. Peat crossed his forehooves and closed his eyes in thought. On one hoof, he could use the threat of telling his parents to force him to go home, and go in alone. On the other hoof, if Gene came along he'd have someone to watch his back and pull his flank out of the fire. Peat was in no way used to being the adult in the room. This decision could rule the fate of either of them. Peat looked at Gene and saw a hopeful look in his eyes. No matter what choice he made, it could end very badly for him. So he really had one choice. "I have decided to let you follow me." A look of bliss swept across Gene's face. "But! On one condition. When I say stop, you stop. When I say go, you go. When I say don't touch anything, don't, touch, anything! Understand?" "Yup!" Gene replied with the widest grin. Flitting over to the dead griffin to retrieve his arrows. Entering Feather Fall Barrow, they found an encampment of the Bone griffins. Several of their dead bodies littered the room with sword and arrow wounds. "This must be the unicorn thief's doing." Peat said in a low voice as Gene went about looting the camp. "How many were with him when you saw them in town?" "Four." Taking a good look around the large room, Peat observed the walls and ceiling were plastered and painted a bright sky blue to simulate sky and clouds. But after years of neglect, was cracked and crumbling. Moving deeper in, he passed through a white marble archway carved in the stone face. Beyond was a wide hallway lined with stone statues of Pegasi. Each one was painted in lifelike bright pastels. But their realism was marred by their destroyed state. Most had their limbs broken off and heads pulverized like the brigands had been using them for weapons training. Peatmoss couldn't help but feel sorrow for the senseless destruction of artistry. But they were all beyond repair now. Reaching the end of the hall, the plaster white walls changed to a raincloud grey. On ether side of the door to the next room was nooks carved out and filled with ancient pegasus bones. A grim telling of what this vault held beyond. Across the lintel of the doorway was written a phrase in old ponish. He wished he could read it. "Do you know how to read that?" Gene looked at the writing and shrugged. "Mom only taught me common." "They don't teach that stuff in school?" Gene gave him a look. "We don't have schools out here in the sticks. Maybe you can learn it in Haven or Skycart out west. But out here in the flyovers, we're taught by our parents." "Hm. I guess I haven't seen much of cultural infrastructure." Peat thought aloud. "She taught you Griffin speech though, right?" Gene rolled his eyes. "Most griffins don't bother. Learning costs money. And if they start talking in griffin, they're just doing it so you can't listen in. Especially if you're an outsider. Some griffs get their jollies from watching ponies get angry or confused." "But not you?" Peat asked with a crooked grin. "Mom says it's rude. But that doesn't stop them from speaking it when they get to argueing." Going through the door, the rooms beyond get progressively darker. Which maybe a good thing since they can hear voices ahead, and the glow of fire. "No wander those idiots at the entrance didn't go any further. There's no end to them bone ponies." said one. "Ba! I've had it with this. Ponies have no right to be so aggressive. Usually you can give them a quick scare and they drop their valuables and bolt." said another. "Enough!" shouted a third. "You two sound like a pare of brood hens. As soon as you get that arrow taken care of, we're going back in. I'm not going to sit hear and let that horned ground pounder get to the end and teleport away with all the treasure." Peatmoss and Gene listen to them bicker as they pick their way through a maze of branching catacombs lined with pockets of bones. "There! It's out. Now drink this." said the first as Peat and Gene peeked around a wall packed with bones. The three of them wore a combination of leather and fur armor with the third waring a pauldron and iron bracers and leggings. The first was administering a healing potion to the second, while the third was looking through a pair of doors. He flinched back at the sound of an arrow hitting the other side of the door. "Come on!" he cursed. "Ponies with arrows? how do they even do that? They're not even unicorns, just bones." Just then, there was a puff of dust from the lid of a stone sarcophagus and as it opened, out crawled a mummified corpse of a pegasus. Gripped in it's muzzle was a black short sword, like the one the griffin outside had. Only this one was sharp and in pristine condition. As soon as it was free, it charged the third griffin and stabbed him in the middle. The griffin roared in pain and bashed at it with a steel mace. The other two drew swords and chopped at the husk until it stopped moving. The mortality wounded griffin clutched at his middle. The hard leather had put up little resistance to the keen blade. Peatmoss heard the creak of wood and string under pressure and turned to see Gene loose an arrow. One griffin went down with an arrow in his back and the other turned and spotted them. Gene notched another arrow but the last griffin dives and brings up a shield just as Gene loosed another. Holding it in front of himself, the griffin charged. Drawing his sword, Meadblood took to the air and struck the shielded griffin, knocking him to the ground. Stabbing down at the pinned griffin, he killed him swiftly. There was no Rush this time, like with the Spiders. And no remorse, like with Juniper. Just a weary acceptance from Peatmoss as Meadblood chanted "Kill or be killed." What Peatmoss saw was sad, while Meadblood saw it as practical. Gene, grinning broadly, as he went from corpse to corpse. Grabbing the valuables, putting on what armor fit, and bagging the rest in Peat's old sacks. "How many have you killed?" Peatmoss asked. "What? Oh. Let's see. There was that one outside, and this one here." he answered as he buckled on a pair of leather bracers. "You've never killed before?" "I've killed rabbits and squirrels. And there was those two wolves. And that elk who got into a argument with our cow." "And you're ok with this?" Peat asked. gesgereing to the dead griffins. "Yeah. Why?" "Yesterday I killed my first." he said glumly. looking down at the blood smears on his formerly clean coat. "His name was Juniper." Gene's eyes went wide in recognition of the name. "You killed Juniper?!" Peatmoss flinched at the surprise and disbelief in his voice. "Why did you do that?" "He was one of the executioners at Squirestone. I was trying to escape, but he cornered me and I had to kill him or he would've killed me." Gene thought about it for a minute. "And if you didn't, uncle Garard would've died to right?" Peat nodded. "Then he was a bad pony." Gene said. As if it were just that simple. "And what about these griffins. They had families and friends. And we just killed them. We didn't even give them a chance to explain themselves." Gene looked down at the one he just looted. Peat could see the gears turning in his young mind. "I never thought of it like that." Peat sighed. "That's why I tried to keep you from coming along." "But these guys stole from Mr Abirdy." Gene defended. "He said it was the unicorn who stole the wing. We don't know what these guys were here for." "I didn't think this was going to be so complicated." Gene stared at his bow for a while, then looked back the way they had come. "I think I should go home." Peat just nodded and dismissed him with a wave of his hoof. "Go on. I wish I could." he muttered to himself. Gene turned and walked back, but before he went out of sight he stopped and asked. "Why did you come up here?" "When I came to Crown I was looking for adventure. But I got a bitter taste of reality instead. In my head I want to go back home. Stick my head back under the pillow of safety and forget about everything I did and saw. But in my heart I know I won't find peace. What I was forced to do, I think will haunt me for the rest of my life. I don't know what's the right thing to do. Garard said if I'm looking for answers, I should visit my ancestors. So here I am. Looking for my purpose." 'What have I done?' Peatmoss thought to himself. 'I've lead this kid to be a murderer like me. I should've made sure he wasn't following me.' He covered his face with his forehooves in shame. "Goddesses" he prayed. "Celestia Luna, I have sinned and fallen from your light. I pray you would give me forgiveness and light my path. What should I do?" He listened and waited for a response. "If there's any time for you to speak to me, please answer my prayer." The cold darkness pressed in around him, and silence was his only answer. "That's it." Peatmoss muttered to himself. "They have abandoned me to my ruin." 'We are on our own now.' said Meadblood. 'We must make our own path now. Do or die.' 'Kill or be killed' echoed Peatmoss. He wrapped his wings around himself in a subconscious effort to ward off the cold loneliness. Then he felt a wing wrap around his shoulders. He looked in surprise at Gene sitting close beside him. "What are you doing here?" Meadblood asked, rubbing the moistness from his eyes. "I thought you were going home." "We still have a mission to complete." Gene answered. "Mission?" "Abirdy's wing remember? I'm not leaving until we get it back." Meadblood chuckled at the eazy, simplicity of his reasoning. "After all," he continued. "Mom says you should never start something you don't intend to finish." Picking up the ponyhusk's sword, he gave it a few test swings. "I think this is more suited for you." Taking the weapon, Meadblood looked it over and saw the hilt had a different shape to it then the one he had from Squirestone. Though blackened from age, it was sharp and well balanced. The grip was flatter and had the leather wrap concentrated more to the ends, leaving the middle almost bare. The hilt also featured a muzzle guard that flowed down to the crescent pommel. He went to bite the grip but hesitated at the thought of who's mouth it had been in last. Then flicked the squeamish feeling away and gave it a test fit. "Wow!" he said around the grip. Feeling the definite improvement over his old sword. With the reduced weight, at no cost to it's length, his movements felt much less labored as he moved it about. Hopping into the air, he experimented with a few moves. He found with the point of balance beeing much closer to his muzzle, he was able to keep an even keel. He felt much more agile and fluid over the clunky lopsided weight of the old one. "Here. I don't think I'll need this one anymore." he said. Handing off his old one to Gene. He gave it a few practice swings and nodded in approval. "Now we're in business." Gene agreed. together they peeked in to the next room. It was bathed in a cool, moon like glow. With no evidence to it's source. Patrolling the floor was a husk and skeleton armed with swords. Above them flew two skeletons holding bow and arrows in their hooves. Crouching down, Gene creeped in and took cover behind a spilled sarcophagus. Standing up, Gene loosed a arrow at one of the flying skeletons, shattering it's scull. When they turned on him, Meadblood dove in, hitting the husk with his forehooves and swinging at the skeleton. It exploded in a clatter of bones as Meadblood turned to the husk regaining it's hoofing. Lunging they clashed blades. One of Gene's arrows hit it in the back and it faltered. Taking advantage of the stumble, Meadblood shoved the blade up and slashed at it's neck, beheading it. An arrow from the last skeleton punched Meadblood in the side, bruising his ribs. He looked up in time to see Gene fly up and strike it and send it's bones raining across the floor. "Ha hah!" wooped Gene in excitement. "That was awesome!" "Yeah." said Meadblood ruefully as he looked over the arrow hanging from his side. "Oh! Are you ok?" he asked as he flew down to assess the damage. "I think I'll be alright. It just looks skin deep." Meadblood answered as Gene reached out. "Wait! Don't pull!" But before he could stop him, Gene had grabbed the shaft and gave it a yank. Meadblood bit down on a howl of pain and crumpled to the floor. "Oh. Sorry." apologized Gene as he sheepishly held the barb. Still tipped with a scrap of Meadblood's fur coat. "Healing potion. Please." he groaned in pain. After bandaging the wound and drink of potion, he gave Gene a lesson about basic first-aid he was trained in as a weather pony. Making their way down a long series of stone stairs, they came to a chamber with a closed iron gate. At the center of the room was a metal lever. Beside it lay a griffin. Walking closer he looked over the griffin and saw he was peppered with small, needle size darts. "Gene!" Meadblood shouted at him as he flew over to grab the lever. "Don't, touch." Backing off he took a seat as Meadblood moved around the room. Above the gateway was three symbols carved in stone. A water drop, lighting bolt, and a snow flake. On the left side of the room was three alcoves carved out of the wall. In front of them was a stone basin full of water. This puzzle would be a tough one for any creature besides a pegasus. "Hey Gene. Want to see a magic trick?" Gene gave a grin and nodded. "Then come over here and get your wings wet." Showing him how to fan his wet wings to create a mist, they worked together till the air was damp enough for Meadblood to start gently packing it together into a ball with his hooves. "Now watch closely. This is Pegasi magic." Dividing the ball of cloud into three sections, he took the first to the nook on the right and began blowing on it. Rotating it as he did till the little cloud turned a bright blueish white. Then he took the next to the center nook and began to pat at it. Rotating it every time till it turned dark grey and rumbly. Then taking the last, which was bigger then the others, he put it in the nook on the left. Working his hooves around the puff of cloud, he packed and squeezed it tighter and tighter till it grew a dark blue and began to drip water. "Wow!" exclaimed Gene. "How come I can't do that?" he asked as Meadblood went over each one to be sure they were extra cold, rumbly, or wet. "Pegasi magic." he answered. flying over to the lever he gave it a pull. The three alcoves glowed with a magical light, and the iron gate lifted. Moving on down into the mountain, they came to a spot were the passage was blocked with roots and rubble from a old cave in. But to the side, through a hole in the wall was a natural cave. Since it was the only way forward they took it, figuring the thieving unicorn would've had to as well. Passing a sinkhole with water pouring into it from a spring, they found thick white webbing clinging to the walls. "You're not afraid of spiders are you?" asked Meadblood as he inspected the tatters of a reasently cut web. Gene gave a shake of his head. "What's so scary about." Just then they hear shouts from up ahead. "Is someone there!? Help! Nigel! Barnard? Sullivan! I'm trapped! Help me!" They look at each other before rushing toward the cries. Entering another larger cave lined with thick silk they find the blueish grey unicorn stuck face first to a wall, with only his hind end sticking out. His cutie mark showing a black beetle. "Do you have the gold wing?" asked Gene as he flew up to the pitifully kicking legs. "Yes! But there's a second one in the treasure room! Just cut me out of here and I'll lead you to it." "Cut him loose Gene. I'll watch your back." Meadblood looked around the room. There was no spiders in sight, but there was a few holes in the walls and ceiling that they could enter through at any second. Suddenly Gene gave a yell of surprise and Meadblood looked back to see him sprawled on his back as the unicorn's tail disappeared around a corner beyond. Laughing as he went. "Are you alright?" he asked as he helped Gene up. "That stupid bug! When I catch him, he'll wish the spiders got him." They gave chase down the tunnel to a hole that lead back in to the tombs. Inside he saw two skeletons assembling themselves, then spotted the unicorn running across a stone catwalk to another room. Growling in frustration, Meadblood drew his sword and smashed through the first skeleton's guard and followed up with shattering it's body. The other dove at him but he dodged to the side. An arrow from Gene at the hole struck it's back and Meadblood took advantage of it's stagger to finish it off. Turning to follow the unicorn, he spotted a ponyhusk taking aim at him from the catwalk and dove behind a coffin. Looking towards the hole, he saw Gene notch another arrow to his bow. Before he can take aim though, a set of black hairy legs grabbed him and pulled him out of sight with a squawk. "No!" shouted Meadblood as he moved to go for the hole, but ducked back as another arrow glanced off the coffin lid. "NO!" he roared. Taking off and looping around, Meadblood barreled into the husk. Slamming it off it's perch and into the floor, he stomped till it's head crunched then flew out after Gene. Pouring on speed he rocketed down the tunnel. Seeing the giant spider dragging Gene's limp body behind it was like a spark falling into a powderkeg. Next thing he knew there was a sharp boom and he hit the far wall of the spider's den. The soft wooly silk rebounded and tossed him to the floor. Wearily he shook away the stars and winced at his ringing ears. Taking a look around, he saw the giant spider's body laying just inside the den. It was easily three times bigger than the ones he fought before. But now it had a gapeing hole straight through it. Peering through the empty carapace, he saw Gene laying still on the ground. "Gene!" he shouted. At least he thought he did. The ringing was still fading. Stumbling to his hooves he galloped around to Gene's side. Opening up his saddle bag, he looked in to find nothing but shattered glass, ruined bandages, and a soup of liquids. With a cry of frustration, he checked Gene's sacks and found the potions he needed. "Ug. I feel like I was trampled by a mammoth." Gene groaned as he came to. "Come on. Climb on my back. That unicorn is getting away." Climbing on, he looked back at the spider. "What happened?" "There's no time." Meadblood said as he galloped after the unicorn. Gene grabbing on to his mane for dear life. Pausing only to snatch up Gene's bow. Past the broken skeletons and through the chamber, they reach a long wide hall with richly painted carvings. At the far end, the wall is lowering into the floor as the unicorn jumped through. "Hey you! Stop!" Meadblood shouted. he tried to use his wings to go faster, but Gene was impeding his wing strokes. As they crossed the threshold Gene let go and tumbled off. "Go on." he said when Meadblood stopped to pick him back up. "I'll be fine. Go catch that horn head." Giving him a nod, he jumped in to the air and flew up to an elevated platform bathed in sunlight from a hole in the ceiling. Meadblood spotted him rummaging through a large iron chest. "Give me the golden wing or-" Peatmoss started to yell before he was struck in the face by a blinding blast of magical ice and snow. He was forced to fly back away as the ice built-up on his face. Shaking his head and coughing, he flew out of range of the attack. Scrubbing away at his face. "Where is it?! Why isn't it here? It should be here!" he heard the unicorn shout. Regaining his sight, Peatmoss looked down to see he had dislodged the stone lid to the sarcophagus in the center of the platform and was looking over the desicated pegasus remains. Giving up on his search, the unicorn turned and bolted for a stone staircase leading up and out of the tome, but Meadblood flew in and slammed down in front of him, blocking his path with his sword. "This chase is over thief!" he said around the hilt. "Give back what you stole or else!" "Out of my way sky skeever!" he spat back. "This artifact is more than just a cheap wall hanging. It's a peace of a puzzle far bigger than a scavenger like yourself can possibly fathom." "I don't care." He growled back. "I promised to bring that wing back too it's owner." "Oh! A sky skeever bounty hunter?" The unicorn exclaimed, seemingly taken aback by the proclamation. "Tell you what," he went on. A sly look settling on his face. "What's the griffi offering you? Five hundred? Eight hundred? Whatever he's offering, I'll double it! And you can forget you ever saw me." 'Oh wow!' Meadblood thought. 'Just think of all those bits! I could probably name my price. And no one needs to die.' Just then, he noticed the unicorn's horn springing to light. A wavey bladed dagger appearing in his magical grip. Meadblood flinched, shielding his face with his forleg as it shot forward in the unicorn's magic. It sank in to his leg up to the hilt. Jumping into the air, he flew as the unicorn shot a lightning spell at him. Zigzaging and dodging and weaving, he came around gripping his sword in resolve. Lining up and he dove in a swoop, aiming to strike. At the last moment the unicorn teleported away. Coming up short, he glanced around looking for him. Then the knife stuck in his leg yanked free and slashed at his neck. It didn't have enough force behind it to cut deep, but it left a slash on the left side of his neck. Turning around it jabbed at his side but the tight woven fabric resisted the point. He batted it with his hoof, shattering the telekinetic hold. It fell out of the air and out of sight with a clatter. Meadblood spotted the unicorn just as he shot another bolt of lightning. It struck, dancing down Meadblood's sword and through his body. Knocking him from the air. The unicorn came running, charging a spell as Meadblood fought to get his spazzing limbs under control. Just then, Gene came into veiw and loosed an arrow, striking him in the flank. The unicorn stumbled to a stop, looking over his shoulder to fire his spell at the griffin. Forcing himself too his hooves Meadblood doggedly galloped at his attacker and slashed into him. Drawing his sword through the unicorn's right foreleg and up into his barrel. The unicorn collapsed to the stone floor, releasing a groaning throat rattle as he cradled his severed leg stump. "Who are you?" Peat asked, looking down at his newest "self defence" victim. Rage flaring up as he watched him bleed out. Spitting out his sword, he yelled. "Why did you make me do that?!" The unicorn didn't answer. Only coughing and groaning. "I was willing to let you go, damn you! What's so important about the wing that's worth dieing for?! Speak!!!" Peatmoss demanded. "Hail Discord." The nameless unicorn groaned out. Then went still. "Damn you!" Yelled Peatmoss in angry frustration as he began kicking at the dead unicorn. Pain shooting thru the wounded leg with every strike. "Damn you! damn you! damn you!" His leg throbbed with pain and he collapsed to his haunches. Covering his face with his hooves. "Why does this keep happening?" Peatmoss cried to himself. 'Do or die.' muttered what he began seeing as the violent part of himself. 'Kill or be-' "Shut up!" He growled back under his breath. "Are you going to be ok?" Gene asked as he approached holding out Peat's dropped sword. "Yeah." He answered curtly. Rubbing away tears before taking the offered sword. Without waiting for permission Gene began looting. Handing Peat the object of their quest. Sheathing his sword, Meadblood took the gold wing and looked it over. It was shaped like a pegasus wing with four spread feathers. Turning it over in his hooves, he regarded it's dull, buttery yellow color. It didn't appear to be what he expected pure gold was supposed to look like. Wary that the unicorn could've had a fake, he began to rub at it hard. Almost expecting gold paint to come off onto his hoof. Then suddenly, a prismatic shean washed over it. He held it out at arms length in surprise as it pulsed faster and faster. Finishing in a blinding light of colors. Peatmoss felt a surg of energy wash thru him ending in his wings. * Level up! * Stamina increase + 10. New perk (Light weapons). (Swords Pony 01/3). Attacks with swords have a 10% chance of doing critical damage (+5% per additional rank.) Special skill unlocked (Ballistic Pony) This ability makes you capable of penetrating large or hard targets. Limited to once per day.