//------------------------------// // Il Re Dei Dannati // Story: Ombra della Lama // by Vedavyasa //------------------------------// It did not take long to find the halls of the False King. Every pony I met in the wastes knew of him, and many wished me luck in my mission. The ponies of the North knew they would die if they stood against him, but their pride demanded they never bow to another. Such foolishness, to be willing to die for so little, although I suppose they did have reason enough to support me. It was night when I came to the False King’s halls. The windows were darkened, the doors barred, and guards frequently patrolled the ground. There were no pegasi, however, so it was an easy thing to find my way to the rooftops unseen. It took much time, but I eventually found an unguarded and unlatched window. I slipped in, and found myself introduced to the False King for the first time. He was a truly tremendous stallion, more beast than pony, easily twice my own height. He stood there, staring at me with a bloodlust in his eyes that I have never seen on any other creature. This stallion was the worst of the predators, he was one who enjoyed killing purely for the sake of watching others die. I struck, moving quickly. I was slapped down like a father might strike down a petulant foal. Never before or since I have known any pony to have such strength. Were it not for my armour, he surely would have broken my back. As it was, the metal held by some miracle even as the floor cracked under the force of my impact. Before I could move again, I felt pressure on my neck. The False King told me how easy it would be to snap neck, to snuff out my life. I refused to reply, and so he stomped my face onto the floor, knocking me unconscious. When I awoke, I was bound in chains and tied to the ceiling by my wings with thick rope. My weapons were gone, and I had been stripped from my robe. The pressure my weighted body put on my joints was immense, and I found myself entirely immobile and in great pain. The False King again stood in front of me, and for the first time I fully examined his appearance. He was entirely unnatural. His shaggy, unkempt coat was blacker than any night, and his eyes were a dark purple. His frame was immense in every dimension, his muscles easily visible even when he was rest. His face was crossed with ritualistic scars, tribal patterns showing a festering red. Even to a pony such as I, accustomed to the worst of our kind, he was a hideous thing. He smiled at me, his teeth rotten and jagged, before explaining that I was in a cavern several miles from his halls. I would be left here to die of thirst or cold, whichever killed me first. He left me there, unable to move or even cry out for help because of the pressure on my lungs. Were it not for the old hermit I met only a day before, I surely would have died. I had been hanging for hours, slowly freezing to death, when he found me and cut me from the ceiling. He explained that he had seen the False King carrying me here, watched what he had done to me, and come to help me when he deemed it safe. He could do little for the chains that bound me, so it the journey back to his home was long and tiring. Once there, he picked the locks and let me be fully free. I spent several days with him, recovering from the cold and shock of what had happened. I had never met any who could so easily defeat me in combat. It made me furious with myself, again I had committed the sin of pride. I had expected to fight an ignorant barbarian, and instead of searching for the truth I simply assumed I would be superior. I was growing tired of my arrogance nearly costing me my life. It was only by luck I still drew breath, and The Lady is ever fickle. One need only speak her name, and she would disappear. When I was again firm in body and mind, Swift Wing brought me a gift. It was a sword, ancient before he had found it, forged during the days of two Princesses united. It bore an inscription in the same language as my armour, a language I had learned. ”Let all enemies fall before the Eagles Claw.” This fascinated me. I still knew very little of this Eagle, only that his true name was Altair and he had been an Assassin a millennium ago. The blade seemed to be forged of the same metal as my armour. Despite Swift Wing’s insistence he had never polished nor cleaned it, the blade shone brighter than any steel. I tested the edge against my hoof, and the edge was keener than any I had ever seen. I went so far as to cut a rock with this sword, and still it shone bright and retained its edge. It was a fearsome weapon, and one that I would need. Taking only this sword and a large skin of water with me, I left Swift Wing again and flew towards the halls of the False King. My arrival this time was by daylight. The guards attempted to stop me, only to be cut down. I was a stallion with a cause and the means to accomplish it. No pony could stop me. His barred doors fell broken at my hooves. His warriors, untrained brutes all, died by the dozens. It was only when he confronted me again that I stopped. He congratulated me on my escape and asked me how I had procured a sword. In answer, I spilled my skin of water at his feet. He seemed confused until I turned the water into a thick cloud, obscuring me from sight. My movements within this cloud charged it, making it a pitch black thunderhead. I heard the False King roar in anger at his inability to find me, and with a moment of preparation I opened my third eye. Though I was surrounded by darkness, I could now see. The walls, the floor, all were as clear to me as it would be on a summer day. The False King rampaged about at random, easily visible to me. It was a simple matter to direct the charge from the cloud into his body. He roared in pain, his entire body rigid with the shock, but to my great surprise he remained on his hooves. I took my sword, and in a single strike I removed his head from his body. More guards had surrounded me by then. To show my strength, I took all of the remaining electricity in the cloud and contained it in my body before dispelling the mist. The guards found me standing there standing only on my rear hooves, electricity arcing from my body and their king’s head at my hooves. They bowed to me. By right of conquest, they declared me their new king. This power would be short lasting, but I would achieve much while I held it. Author's Notes And Translations Il Re Dei Dannati - King Of The Damned So, this is sort of alive again. I'm not sure how often it'll update, but I'm having fun with Ombra again so it shouldn't be too sparse.