//------------------------------// // The Baron's Stage [Original] [OC] [Atmospheric] // Story: Journeyman's Journal // by Journeyman //------------------------------// Prologue Hordes of ponies walked through the usually empty streets of Shady Hollow, far more than those that actually lived in the small town. The skies twinkled with a fine blanket of stars across the night sky. Although there was no wind so late in the year, a slight chill in the air necessitated warmer clothing to hold back the bite. The rural town was commonplace by pony standards. The usual general store, blacksmith, schoolhouse, town doctor, horseshoe smith, and town hall decorated the town’s very loose grid-like design. Several trees, however, were ancient oaks - broad and hardy trees too difficult to excavate. Such old flora was interspaced between buildings, forcing several homes and shops to be placed much farther away from the main path. If one climbed the mountains on either side of the hollow, they could see homes and farms dotted all along the valley. Some of the more reclusive homes were wedged deep in the forest, obfuscated behind several dense layers of trees and light thickets. The crickets were out in full force that night, but none cared even the slightest. Even the ever-irritating mosquitoes and gnats that habitually haunted the small town so late in the year were expelled by scented torches. Mares and stallions were out in full force, far more than the scant few that inhabited the town. Dozens herded diminutive colts and fillies from one house and business to the next. Each child was dressed as their favorite storybook character or hero. If one truly looked hard enough, they could see a few fillies dressed as Celestia or Luna. It was every child’s favorite holiday. It was Nightmare Night. Their wild hooftsteps and cheerful cries echoed into the night and were swallowed by the layers of trees surrounding the small town. Their hooves did not even clop in the din, as the rural nature of Shady Hollow did not grant them enough funds for a brick or cobblestone road; it was naught but dirt, grass, gravel, and woodchips, depending on whom owned that particular piece of land. Nopony minded; it was their home, where they grew up and where their children will learn and grow. It was not a grand city like Canterlot, nor was it paradise. It was home, and nothing more. Shady Hollow was a moderately wooded town that was difficult to find even if you knew where it was. Even calling it a town was generous, as it barely had enough ponies to fill a hamlet. Once a year, however, the population exploded as ponies from across Equestria flooded the streets. Whether only a few or at a time or by the droves, ponies entered the town from the only dirt road leading to the outside world. Flanked on either side by torches, they came. Some came with gleeful smiles on their faces. Others chatted eagerly with close friends and loved ones. Their clothing marked them just as easily as their accents. There were the rough linens of seafaring ponies, posh silks and fitted suits from upperclass ponies with accents from Trottingham and Canterlot, thick wool shirts and blouses belonging to farmers and fellow townies from near and far, and even a few were dressed in appropriate costumes for such a succulent and frightful night. A few lovers were wrapped in more-than-friendly embraces and suggestive flank-bumping, but Shady Hollow was not their home and the streets were full of children and watchful parental eyes. Amorous feelings would have to wait. The newcomers had a destination to reach anyway. Main Street was lined with games and excitement: pin-the-tail, card games, children’s tag, costume contests, face painting, candy exchanges, horseshoe tossing, delectable treats, storytelling, and tables filled to the brim with candy and tightly wrapped parcels. The yearly influx of out of towners proved a great boost for local businesses. Business was booming, and far more than what even peak times usually granted. Where there were not games or amusements down Main Streets, visiting ponies could refresh themselves with freshly squeezed lemonade, fresh meat right out of the oven, oven-roasted bread with herbs, fresh produce straight from the orchards, and hoof-crafted goods to take home for friends and family. Others were selling strange oddities: goose-feather pillows and thick, woolen blankets. Most were just plain pieces of cloth built to last, but the more devoted natives stitched geometric patterns and popular cultural characters and designs into the fabric. A teenage couple, curious as to why bed ware seemed such a popular selling item and deserving of multiple vendors, walked up to a wrinkled, old mare. Both were completely bare save for a saddlebag apiece and a traveling cloak. “Excuse me, Miss. May I ask why there’s so many pillows and blankets for sale?” The vendor, a dappled white mare with a mane the most vibrant silver, wheezed a laugh. “You youngin’s new to the Baron’s show?” The mare, a snow-white teen earth pony, and her older stallionfriend, a sky-blue pegasus with a mane the color of tarnished silver, nodded. “The Baron does his deeds in the old amphitheater further in the valley until he’s done or by the light of dawn. It can get awfully chilly sometimes, so it be good to have some warmth and comfort.” “Good idea,” the mare said. She craned her head around and saw other couples and families carried bedrolls and pillows on their backs and lunch boxes in their saddlebags; they were obvious veterans of Shady Hollow’s Nightmare Night main attraction: the Baron. “No worries, Aria; I got paid Friday and brought some bits just in case I needed them.” Aria gave him one of her perfect smiles and a flirtatious eye flutter “Thanks, Aegis.” He paid the vendor enough bits for a pillow and blanket apiece. The fluffy blankets were more akin to quilts with their air pockets and large patches, but that meant they were large enough to cover both ponies. The sensual ideas conjured by such an intimate thought crossed both of their minds, but they needed to go: the Baron beckoned. The hollow was small enough to walk across in a short ten minutes. While Aegis and Aria did not know the way to the Baron and the amphitheater, the torches lining the dirt pathway and the stream of chattering ponies was enough to inform them. “I was here last year. It was amazing!” “I heard a filly listened in one night and had nightmares for a month.” “He used to carry a bison head with candles in the eye sockets as the only source of light for this. I swear to Celestia it’s true!” “When did he get here, anyway? Why does he use an old, abandoned amphitheater?” “Who knows? He’s a creepy bastard. He can do whatever the hell he wants.” “It’s a little too cold. I’m going to go get another blanket.” “Last time he told a story about this cursed hand that gave you wishes and they all bit you in the flank as their effects unfolded.” “If this get’s too much, I’m going back to town and see if there’s a room at the inn that’s open.” “They’ve all been booked since last week, Sora.” “Fuck!” “Keep the profanity to a minimum, peasant.” “Who farms the food that goes on your table, you pompous wag?” “Enough you all, we’re almost there.” The spooky, twisted branches of the arching trees cast shadowy talons further in the darkness. The torches produced the unintended side effect of shadowy creatures and monsters just beyond the sanctity of light. A few ponies huddled closer together; although there was naught but insects and small animals in terms of local forest ambiance, the mind conjured beasts and shades when none truly existed. The dirt path slowly widened, opening up to a small clearing, causing several ponies to stop whinnying in worry. A small crowd of ponies was before the new group, all looking down into a large depression. The amphitheater was carved into the side of the mountain at the base of a sharp decline. Nopony, not even the residents of Shady Hollow, knew the origins of the ancient place. Whatever its original purpose may have been, it had been long lost to time and retaken by Mother Nature. The stone steps descending the the large, upraised stone stage were cracked and weathered by the elements. The isles and stone seats were in equally sorry states with some of them outright destroyed over time. Large patches of lichen, moss, and vines had once retaken the stonework, but they had since been cleared for Shady Hollow’s yearly ritual. Aegis, Aria, Sora, and the rest of their particular group of ponies jostled for seats. The amphitheater was already packed with ponies chatterings, enjoying some snacks, or quietly snuggling with friends and family. Some ponies just started laying blankets on the grass outside the amphitheater to claim more legroom. The snobby elite and his stallion companion managed to find seats in the crowd, but even those were difficult to obtain; the remainder of their group deemed it necessary to stake their own claims on the grassy soil and do their best to discover patches devoid of any stickers and burs. Most ponies were nestled together due to lack of room, sharing body heat, or nervousness. The sun had set almost two hours ago and the cloudless night and twinkling stars cast just enough celestial radiance to bath them all in a light glow. The light was mediocre, even with the torches interspaced on the stairs, but most eyes did not need to see into the darkness, for they were directed to the stage. A single pony languished lazily across a stone table. The Baron was dressed in a very fine, fitted suit shaded an immaculate white to rival even Celestia’s unblemished fur. His equally white top hat covered his head and face. Bright, bloody red stitching on his lapels, outside collar, coat tails, and a band across the base of his hat complimented the white. He reached into his breast pocket with a light gray hoof and removed a silver pocket watch. Flicking it open, he tilted his hat up to examine the current time with his equally red eyes. However, the time was not quite appropriate, and he slipped the watch away. “Disgraceful,” whispered the elite to his companion. “splaying himself out like that in front of an audience. And in one of Photo Finish’s designer suits, no less!” “Come now, old chap,” chided his companion, a middle aged stallion in a tailored black suit, perfectly groomed hair, and monocle. “Do not judge the fine sir on first impressions alone.” “Is he even a Baron, Fancypants? What’s he doing out in such an uncivilized place?” “I do not believe he is, Federick.” Fancypants replied. “However, he has attained quite the fanbase by spinning his yearly tall tales. I came last year and found my night most enjoyable.” Frederick huffed in irritation. He tapped his foot impatiently, clearly dissatisfied by present location, company, and host. Unnoticed by all, the Baron removed his watch once again. The click was soft enough to be swallowed by the chattering crickets, let alone over a thousand ponies. “ROOOOOOOLL UP!” The Baron’s light tenor sliced through the cacophonous noise. They hushed for silence, but they were quickly overpowered by uproarious applause. The Baron had risen to his hooves, casually brushing dust and minor bits of grime from his lapels. Whistles and cheers echoed across the amphitheater in droves. He smiled coyly, soaking up the attention as true performers do. The Baron held up a hoof for silence. The applause, cheers, and chatter died to a low rumble, leaving a few overly enthusiastic fans still cheering. The earth pony flicked a hoof to a torch on the far left of the stage. The torch blazed to life in ruby-red flames. The torch on the right relived the same experience, enveloping the stage in light. He removed his hat in a flourish and bowed, a deep and practiced act gained from previous performances. Several audience members gasped; the Baron appeared to be a simple charcoal-gray earth pony until he removed his hat and displayed a horn. Seeing a supposed earth pony perform magic was surprising indeed. “♫~Come one, come all, this All Hallow’s Eve for coming tonight for stories I weave. I bring you fear and a little fright: thirty-one tales of Nightmare Night!”