//------------------------------// // Act 4- Chapter 1: Under the Mountain // Story: Icon: Remnants of the North // by Vixavior //------------------------------// Under the Mountain Proofread by TehSporkBandit Amidst the settling dust, beneath the streaming shaft of light that spill down and scythe through the gloom, four ponies and yourself slowly grow aware of the precarious nature of your surroundings. The shattered heap of timber and rattling fall of pebbles and other detritus that rained down had subsided but its lingering dust cloud chokes the life from those thin rays of light that pour down from the ruins. You found yourself looking up at your feet and at the four slats and rays of light that trace across your weathered boots. The back of your head throbbed in a dull roar where it cracked into the cold hard ground, though it was no less sore than your arched back, twisted into some sort of a contortion from the fall. It was, admittedly, quite a bit softer thanks to your pack, or something. A harsh cough is the first indicator that your backpack wasn’t the only thing that broke your fall. “Now I know why Rainbow said she couldn’t fly with you at the hospital.” The mewling simper wasn’t helping you much but you did try to lift yourself off of the figure who you were trying to identify by voice. The raspy tone and unhappy sound disguises the speaker fairly well, but there’s no awkward flap of pinned wings, and it couldn’t be Rainbow unless you’d concussed her into talking in the third person. Your mind assembles it in a few moments, “Pinkie, are you okay?” You flip yourself over and let her slide out from under you. The leather thong from the axe bites into your wrist and the grit scrapes your palms, but at least it was still there and hadn’t hurt anypony in the fall. “I’m okay. Next time, can I not be the cushion? It’s not all that fun and it kinda’ hurts too. Wow, that was a doozie. I wonder why it didn’t try to dig down here. I mean, it’s not a dog, but it was pretending to be a guard dog.” She shifts away but other low unhappy moans of discomfort pierces the darkness. A dust induced cough melds with a chuckle as Rainbow slowly stands up some distance further in the dark. “Pinkie, if that was a guard dog, it didn’t do a very good job. After all, we’re in here and he’s out there. Score one for the good guys.” “I don’t know Dashie. He howls pretty good and his doggie paddle seems to be at least at the advanced level. So he’s got the dog part down pat, it’s just the ‘guard’ that he has to work at. Oh, and he needs to be more adorable. Right now he kiiinda looks like a big snake, or maybe more of an fish, a snake-fish, which I guess is an eel, but with legs. He’s a guard dog-leggedy eel in training.” “Trained by who...” Fluttershy’s demure tone trails off in a few mousey coughs. “Ah reckon we’ll find out soon enough.” Applejack’s voice was close enough in your ear that it actually made you jump. She’d barely cleared the rain of debris and the shift of a few broken planks attest to another close call. Nevertheless it didn’t shake her confidence, at least vocally. The scratch of flint and tinder sends a few bright sparks shooting in the darkness. In a few moments a cheery glow from a relit oil lamp lends your surroundings some much needed definition. The rough hewn rock walls were neither professionally carved nor worn smooth by water, but roughly chipped away leaving sharp gouges and ridges. You are at the terminal end of the tunnel, laying in the debris field with the last twisted remains of the shattered ladder and a fairly sizeable mound of splintered wooden shoring. No, there was no way anypony was getting up there, at least, not in a hurry or without considerable help. You were on your hands and knees, casting a glance over your left shoulder to the mare who held the oil lantern up above her head. The shadow from her dust smattered hat hides her eyes, showing only the slightly unnerving curves of her jaw and chin in the rough lambent firelight. A pair of bright glowing magenta eyes down the cave was equally unsettling as they flashed like mirrors. “What? What’s wrong?” Rainbow brushes herself off with her wings like a feather duster. The glitter from her eyes was discomforting. Ten paces or so behind her, the world seemed to simply disappear, hidden from the pallid sheen of the lantern light. “Nothing.” you reply. “Uh, really? Shoot, and I thought it was ‘something’ because we’re in a dark scary cave without a way out, guarded by a Hydra, with only one lamp between four ponies and an honorary pony.” Pinkie leans against the wall for support. “Honorary pony?” you venture. “What, I didn’t say that before? Aaah, where’s a party cannon when you need it? I mean, it’s an essential but Applejack talked me out of it. I toooold you it might be important.” She pulls a face of frustration, sitting herself down before petulantly crossing her hooves while staring at Applejack. “Pinkie, you want ta’ use a cannon in a tiny space where the ceilin’ got shaky rafters, the floors just are packed dirt meanin’ thise here path goes down further and there’s clearly claw marks right here?” Applejack scrapes the dust with her forehoof as you lean over to look for yourself. Sure enough, three toed claw marks and a wide sweeping pattern were stamped in the compacted earth. This must be a well trafficked route. Something catches your attention, “What’s this brushing pattern right down the mid-” A plaintive cry and scrape of backpedaling hoove cuts you off in a trice. Snapping your attention from Applejack to Fluttershy, you watch as she tumbles backwards across the narrow corridor. The Pegasus rears up, back pressed firmly against the opposite wall while pointing a shaking hoof at the spot where her nose had almost touched moments before. “Fluttershy, gal, calm down. Ya’ look like ya’ve seen a ghost!” Applejack hops over one jagged spar as Pinkie sidles up along side her. You felt the same initial urge to comfort the Pegasus but the oil lamp catches a curious glimmer halfway up the far wall. You get closer and drag yourself up to inspect the strange glint. “Pinkie?” You reach out and pick at the flecks, several come loose from the rock and fall into your palm; it was a sliver about half the size of your fingernail. Holding the small wafer up, it was translucent like the enamel of a tooth and a pale violet in colour with a completely smooth texture. “You’ve got a sister that likes rocks right?” “Uh-huh.” Pinkie tears herself away from Fluttershy’s side with a last loving stroke of her mane. “This isn’t quartz right? So what’s purple, smooth, and slightly greyish? Maybe amethyst? Does that flake off like this?” You hold up the strange piece for her to inspect. “Well I’m not Maude, but I can take a lookie here.” Pinkie pie relinquishes her spot as Applejack and Rainbow Dash gently calm the still shuddering Fluttershy in the comforting warmth of the lamplight. “Hmmm.” Pinkie takes your wrist and twists it in a few awkward directions. Even as you wince against the treatment she lofts a brow, “Iiii don’t think this is a rock. I could be wrong, but it looks more like a chip from a tooth or horn.” The reflexive revulsion got you to drop the horn splinter and rub your hand against your pants. It wasn’t just horn, it wasn’t bone, it was purple and your mind already went straight to ‘Unicorn’. Worse yet, a stomach lurching mental image of the red-eyed, Twilight Sparkle flashed in your mind as you shut your eyes and shook that terrible thought away. The scratched wall, the scraping on the floor, the hidden and guarded entrance, “We’ve found his lair…” Dear Celestia, please say we didn’t just find a mass grave. Were they all dragged down here in the dark, kicking, screaming and lashing out against the unknown as they fought tooth and nail to the point they hurt themselves? Could this have been a passage of horrors frequented by those who simply disappeared? The miasma slowly lifts from your eyes, as if blinking awake from an ephemeral dream after dozing off in the midst of the day. “The Gremlins are here too. It feels like them.” “Forget that it feels like them, pah, it smells like them.” Rainbow mutters and waves a hoof in front of her muzzle. “C’mon, it looks like this place slowly goes up. There might be a cave or chamber up ahead. We better keep the light dim so we don’t give ourselves away.” The impetuous Pegasus nods further up the passage as you sniff the air. It didn’t seem any different than it did before: stale, thick, heavy and rank with the weight of ages. You don’t know what she smelled, or what she knew, but you make a conscious decision to trust her judgement. “Alright, Rainbow, why don’t you and me go on ahead and see where this tunnel leads. If we see any entrances, cracks, any place we could get ambushed then we’ll head right back here. AJ, Pinkie, Fluttershy, you can stay here and collect yourselves.” Your voice was practically a bark which catches you by surprise but it gets four nods of silent agreement. “Yeah, I don’t mean to be a drag, champ, but how are we gonna see anything? We’ve only got one lantern.” Rainbow cocks her head to the side. “Hmm.” you look at your scarf and sigh, “Rarity would be so disappointed with me.” You bite your lip and pull the wool scarf off before wringing it out. Standing up, you still had more than a foot of headroom as you slip back down the passage to the collapsed entrance to sift through the debris for a sizable wooden spar. “Woah-nelly, suga’cube, if yer thinkin’ what ah think yer’ thinkin, it’s a good try but wool don’t burn. At least, not well. That and you’ll get a smell worse’n a stink bug on a skunk tail.” Applejack chuckles as she slips off some of her outerwear. “Here.” She produces a fine red linen kerchief from around her neck; one you’ve seen her with quite a few times before. She holds the fabric out and fixes you with a bright smile. Seeing your reluctance she flicks her hoof a little more to say ‘go on, take it’ which finally you do. “Thanks.” It was still hard to ruin a token like that. Rarity would still be upset. Biting your lip you finally impale the fabric on the end of the stake with a loud rip. Twisting the red kerchief around it a few more times, you fashion it into a workable torch, “I promise, I’ll get you another one when we’re out of here AJ.” “Don’t worry about it pardner, it has ta’ be done.” Applejack opens the shutter of the bullseye lantern and you let the fire lick up around the blood red material. It catches fire quickly, producing an admirable flame for a makeshift tool. “Hah, alriiight, lets get goin’. Oh, we’ll leave a few Gremlins for you to flatten, too! Lets get dangerous!” The Pegasus smiles and slams her forehooves together in front of her vicious looking sneer. “We’ll be back soon.” You wave then hesitate for a moment, “Oh, just in case we need to identify each other and want to make sure it’s us, not us or some monster, then say ‘Red’, and you’ll answer back ‘Scarf’.” Your idea is greeted by a chorus of acknowledgements. Pinkie’s eyes light up for a moment as she nods almost hard enough to hear whatever was inside to rattle around, “Ooo, it’s like a puzzle or a joke where only we know the answer… okay so if it’s a joke it needs work, and if I say Red that’s not the first thing that comes to mind. Maybe it should be ‘Hot Sauce?’ Or ‘Cherr-” Applejack muffles Pinkie with the fringed tassels of one of her own scarves, “Scarf’ll do just fine.” “C’mon, lets go kick some tail!” Rainbow’s voice echoes from up the corridor, having went on ahead as you turned back. “Hey Rainbow.” Applejack grins, “Red.” “Scarf, yeah-yeah I heard you the first time.” Rainbow trots on the spot and as you peer back over your shoulder; she strikes a pose with one hoof in the air, head back, and that same devil-may-care smirk. “C’mon, we’ve got to get back before supper’s cold.” You shake your head and hustle forward, the blazing torch in one hand and war axe in the other. ♣ Forging ahead in the dark was an uncomfortable experience, not to mention disquieting. There were small specks that glowed in the torch light. At first you thought they might be eyes, and they still could be, but other times it was just errant flecks of quartz embedded in the rock walls or roof. It should have been a relief that you didn’t come across any dark chasms or gaps, even when the corridor expands another five feet to either side and two feet in height. It was nice additional breathing room but still there was a lingering sensation; too many times the winking gleam disappeared and there was no gem or shiny stone to be found. “Hey, you hear that?” Rainbow’s husky voice echoes loudly in the dark, though she couldn’t have spoken in more than a stage whisper. “Hmm?” You keep your attention split between the long orange hue reflecting down the upward sloping corridor and the nearly imperceptible descent behind you. The passageway was still bare and featureless aside from the scuff marks on the floor. Some time between here and the entrance way, the dirt had disappeared and left only the cold bare stone. “Huh, you really don’t smell that?” Rainbow’s sudden inflexion and stare wasn’t comforting. “Give me a break, my nose isn’t as good as yours. So what is it?” The snippy little reply cut her short. After all, you didn’t want to be chattering and having every creature in that tunnel as an audience. You were already hoping anything predatory might be blind so it didn’t see the pale flames of the torchlight. “Garbage, or something somepony left out waaay too long. It could be old hay or something, but I don’t think so.” She waves her hoof at you and takes the lead again before trotting off, making you jog just to keep up. In a few seconds you catch the first rancid waft in your nostrils just as Rainbow had warned. It’s cloying, almost sucking the breath from your lungs as the fecund smell turns to a bitter taste as it settles on your tongue. Grimacing and scraping your tongue to your teeth did little to rid your mouth of that rankness that poignantly hangs in the air. It was sharp, and it quickly dawns on you, “There’s a -” “Breeze? Yeah, I figured I didn’t need to tell you about that. I think I see a bend up there.” Rainbow gestures further up the pathway with her head. You both could feel the slope start to dramatically increase so there was little need to say anything. Slogging up the incline, the world seems to suddenly wrap into something different: a meticulously smoothed and cut landing with brazen wall sconces greet you, and beyond that is a spiraling stairwell. “Huh, well that’s new. And a little creepy” Rainbow’s voice wavers with a gulp of discomfort. Your attention and the Pegasi’s is swiftly directed to a few splashes of colour and the empty torch sconces. The walls had gone from shallow carvings with a rough pick to smoothed down stone, and something else sparkles on the wall. You see a halo, not a real one, but something was gilded in gold leaf as small shocks of red, blue, and white catch your eye. Hurrying the ten paces towards the bottom of the stairwell, Rainbow was slowly pattering up the steps while throwing cursory looks to her left and right. “Huh, like the glyphs in Sapphire Stone.” Each surface is richly adorned with gilding and plastered walls intricately painted with rich vegetable dyes unblemished by age or exposure. It was as precise rendition, accurate, almost lovingly depicting something that tugs at your mind: humans, or something close to them for the most part. To your left was a great heroic figure on a mighty vessel sinking into the watery main. His cloak billows behind him, sword aloft, and behind his head is a nimbus of light made from gold leaf that melds with the blue and white swirls of colour. His opponent was a hulking giant clad in chains and skulls, a piggish snout and great twisting horns sprouting from his demonic helm as he wielding an axe far too large for a person that size. Behind him follow faceless hordes brandishing all sorts of ugly curved glaives and sharpened hooks. Between them lay the fallen figure of some nigh angelic being with the same gold leaf halo; his chest was torn open, a sanguine stream trails down with his hand clasped across the gash, surrounded by heaps of slain barbarians and masses of sundered armour. The seas run red with blood as shattered masts and shredded sails jut out from stylistically rendered waves. This feels uncomfortably religious. It’s a history written in the eyes of those who view its heroes as martyrs, paragons. Gods. To your right, along the outer spire of the stairwell, was something you didn't recognize in memory but its figure was unmistakable. Ulf. The panel shows a warrior dramatically bursting forth from a alpine pool, his hand pumping the air, an upraised Alicorn horn firmly in his grasp. Panel after panel showed near herculean tasks, lifting a boulder like Atlas to reveal a mountain spring, standing over the bloodied body of a chimera with its gory mane gripped in hand illuminated like it was a holy icon. All the while that single Alicorn horn never departed from him, and was never depicted without the tracing lines of gold filigree etched in the hard plaster fresco. Ulf had come here, that much had been apparent by nature, but how long ago? His beard grew longer in each rendition, turning from brown to speckled grey and then to white as pure as sriven snow. “This is it, Rainbow. We've definitely found his lair. But look at this...” you point to the next, showing him interceding between Gremlins, a great host of ravens behind him as the petty impish Gremlins point, hiss, and stamp in their own ugly little squabble. Above them resided Ulf, some paragon as unmoving as the mountain peaks. “Huh, that stallion kinda looks like Twilight.” Turning to see what she was talking about, you see the purple Unicorn clad in grey with the symbol of a sun behind his head shaped in the burst of a clover with radiant beams of light streaking out and touching every corner of the rather large picture. Beneath it is a small ledge drizzled with hardened wax festooned with candle stubs and small strips of parchment. “It’s a shrine dedicated to Clover the Clever.” You bob your head. Rainbow hums for a moment or two before losing interest and heading up the staircase, all the while looking over the scenes and halting every now and again to look more closely at the battle scenes. You look over the script and notice the Equestrian writing, “By Celestia… Rainbow, what language do Storm Gremlins use?” It had to be a trick as your eyes scan across the liturgy: Nu min wine gecranc þæt ic hlafordleas ham siðie. Wende fram wige, ac me sceal leofne hors niman, héo hæfde god geþanc ne forhtedon na hire wordum. “Ne sceole ge sinc gegangan.” Befæsten fífirúnwitan ic ánþing gebannum fífincundnessa ond bréosthord gebrogdene fífigéosceaftas bótum ætstalas hwonne áne ácordaþ, sy ácumendlicnessa Se sy þæs strangan stapol. ac me sceal wæpen niman, ne þurfe we us spillan, wið freode and niman frið. Gehyrst þu, hwæt þis folc segeð, and þam wordum swealg And mid friþe ic ferian. Se sy… “It’s just a messed up version of Equestrian. Why?” She proceeds up the steps, the sound of her hooves growing fainter with every moment. Your eyes widen as you look over the Equestrian translation written neatly next to it. Now that my patron has perished, I shall now go, lordless, on a journey. Having turned away from battle, I shall be taken by beloved horses. She had a dauntless spirit, be not afraid of Her words: “You shall not take our treasures!” With five I call on one, five hearts, five minds, five destinies entwined to aid When all concur anything is possible. It is their foundation of strength. no death by arms, no need for the slaughter of one another, we move towards peace and receive peace. Now hear what these people have to say, and heed those words. And with peace I depart. It is… Something was wrong, the last line was missing, as if incomplete and left that way to posterity. ‘It is’ what? Why would anypony or anyone use just one section of this? What the hell is going on? “Hey, get your flank up here!” your companion seethes from farther up the stairwell. “Rainbow, this is important!” You pick your way over the scene of a horde of prostate Gremlins with Ulf standing upon some great mountain top clutching the shattered Alicorn horn in his grasp. Behind him was five subordinate but unbowed figures; each with a Raven perched on their shoulders. You could see the stick like limbs and wasted, emaciated hands crossing their chests to form a symbol that looked like a bird with outstretched wings. “Yeah, so is this!” she insists and even whistles, though you heard something else reply instead of yourself; it was the crooning croak. “Hey, shoo! Go on, beat it! Gah, get lost!” Rainbow hovers in mid air at the top of the stares, staring at a large fat Raven that wobbles and hops towards her. A pale light illuminates her bright plumage and glints off the obsidian feathers of the Raven. She sweeps her wings out with a gust of air that whisks the carrion feeder backwards in a flurry of feather with an agitated caw. “Looks like I found our way out.” She smirks and heads towards the carved archway marking the exit to the stairwell. You’re left with little choice but to dutifully follow the impetuous mare.