//------------------------------// // The woods are lovely, dark, and deep // Story: A Guidepost in Equestria // by Death Pony //------------------------------// Sometime in the night I was awoken by the alarm going off in my mind, my ward having been triggered. I tried not to move right away, seeing if I could figure out the location and how many intruders I was facing. My campfire was burning low, practically coals at this point, meaning I had been asleep for a couple of hours before my guests decided to make a move. My senses told me there were maybe eight to ten creatures out there and they were trying a simple encircling strategy. Silently activating my Skull Engulfed in Flames Tattoo, my body was instantly enveloped in an eerie red glow that resembled heat vapors and wisps of fire appeared and disappeared in random patterns across my body. Feeding my campfire with some elemental magic, the flames sprang up with added vigor and I could sense my visitors recoil a bit as I sat up looking around. Theatrics go a long way towards negotiating from a position of strength. Looking around I saw several pairs of yellow eyes peering at me from the darkness from a low vantage point. ‘A pack of predator animals; which usually means an alpha is present. Scare the leader, nothing has to die tonight.’ I had found over the years that approaching the locals and claiming that ‘I come in peace!’ after slashing and burning the local flora and fauna like a psychotic Smoky the Bear usually netted negative results. ‘Everyone’s a critic.’ After looking at them it seemed they were wolves, although they appeared rather…off. I puzzled out that they were constructed of wooden branches and magic rather than the blood and fur I had been expecting. ‘Guess fire was the right choice after all.’ I wasn’t sure if they could understand me, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try. “Listen up. I may be trespassing in your hunting grounds, and if so I apologize; but I am no one’s meat and if you push me, it will cost you.” With the last couple of words I flared the campfire up and ignited my eyes with blue and green illusionary fire to punctuate each word while launching a fireball into the air with my left hand and pooling a ball of fire in my right, ready to launch. I had to give the alpha credit. Even after my sky born fireball produced a dazzling explosion overhead he didn’t cringe back like his pack members but I could tell he was no longer looking as sure about hunting the ‘big-pink-thing’ as he was a moment ago. He gave me one last look and turned off with his pack slinking away into the darkness with him. After a few moments of confirming that they had indeed left I extinguished my Control of Fire spell and set up another alarm ward. I was a little miffed I’d had to spend more magic power before the sun even rose that day but for all I knew those critters belonged to someone who was a possible ally. No sense blasting the wildlife or guardian golems when their threat level was probably not all that high. I was after all a living weapon. I had a feeling though that some of my so-called benefits would make things more challenging here or wouldn’t be nearly as helpful as I had hoped. Once I had been transformed into a supernatural creature by the experiment I had taken part of, I had received two powerful physical enhancements. The first was supernatural strength. Without additional strength magic (which I had) I could naturally lift almost two tons and efficiently carry about half that without major problems. Naturally, this supernatural strength was a double-edged sword, like most of my ‘gifts’. Once changed by the experiment, it took the good part of ten years to finally gain full control of my strength and not accidentally destroy whatever it was I was grabbing or pushing. Even now, in a reflex situation or when very emotional, I ran the risk of losing control of my own power and in this new place the last thing I wanted was a dead pony on my hands because of a simple mistake. Even were I to openhanded slap a creature here and not successfully pull my power back, more than likely all that would be left is a headless body and shouts of ‘murderer’. Since I actually was here in the name of Peace, this rankled a bit. The second of my physical improvements was a far more sturdy body. In my Prime Plane I and other superior beings and materials were classified as Mega Damage structures (or MD for short), something that could withstand almost all natural attempts to damage it, such as fists, axes, and even modern small arms fire and rockets. The best example I can give was passed to me in a run-down bar by a dwarven engineer I once knew on Rifts Earth. He said that a standard human Army tank could be hit with a tennis ball as hard and as many times as one wanted and the tank wouldn’t even register the assault and that was how MD structures reacted to non-MD attacks; which is to say pretty much not at all. As such, only MD weapons, spells, and creatures could damage MD structures. From what I could tell though, this land of Equestria was overflowing with magic and since I knew even the so-called ‘Earth Ponies’ had it flowing through their bodies I concluded they could be a serious threat if they trampled or stomped me en masse as my natural resistance would probably be negated and that wasn’t even counting their unicorn magic. ‘Cute cuddly magical talking ponies that can kill me; I really have been alive too long…’ Shaking off my continued misfortune, I glanced at my timepiece and figured I had another three hours till sunrise. I tossed some coffee beans into an old camp pot full of water and decided on some camp coffee when I woke in the morning. It would be pretty stout and bitter, but camp coffee had a hell of a kick. I placed the pot on the now glowing coals sans magic fuel and let it work its magic while I tried to get comfortable enough to sleep for another hour or two. Soon enough my internal alarm told me to get up and have some coffee before I succumbed to laziness. I sat up, felt along the edges of my barrier spells and decided it was time to ingest the harsh brew known as camp coffee. Even a hardened killer like me preferred a little sweetness in his coffee and I pulled out a small service set from my robe-of-many-things. Asking evil entities if they wanted to sit down and have some tea with a sterling silver set always netted the most hilarious reactions. Having fixed myself a cup of joe (complete with sugar and cream, thank you very much), I took a sip, cringed a bit at the strength and started a mental list of things I needed to accomplish today. ‘I should set up some magic circles and some trigger wards. Magical landmines for evil entities and maybe a barrier prison for non-good Others? I really don’t want to blow up a potential ally but the fewer Visitors this place gets, the better I’ll feel. Then I need to find an information center, perhaps a library since I doubt they have a Digital Data Repository in this place. THEN I need to find out how to contact the rulers of this place and set up a meeting, spill my guts and hope I don’t lose my head. No pressure.’ Once I’d finished my first coffee, I groaned a bit, stood with a series of pop-inducing stretches, and began drawing a large magic circle around the Guidepost. The first was a Feedback Circle of Evil Rejection I’d devised long ago to deal with incorporeal undead slipping in and out of a small town and devouring children. Anything that the Forces would deem ‘evil’ would find their magic turned inward against them and looped until they reached the mystic equivalent of critical mass, usually resulting in a loud pop and a spray of bodily fluids, or in that particular case, ectoplasm. It wasn’t a fix-all by any means and would only catch a few trespassers before the circle would expire, but if I was lucky that would give me ample time to set up an ambush if things came to that. Having completed my first Circle, I started my second. A simple Barrier Against Non-Good that would prevent creatures from leaving the circle least they leave behind all of their mystic energy, usually resulting in coma or possibly death. Any Visitors would know the danger before they tried to leave and if they insisted on taking the risk anyway, I couldn’t feel responsible for their plight; there was an entire nation of adorably cuddly innocents riding on this and I wasn’t taking any chances of first contact ending in a hail of bullets of plasma bolts. Adventurers may not always be evil assholes, but I often thought of budding ‘heroes’ and explorers as dangerous children that tended to demand first and shoot those who moved too slowly second. I feared I may be getting cynical in my old age. With my first two barriers in place I set up some alarm wards for remote monitoring and set them to ignore the local wildlife but trigger if any sapient beings traipsed through the area, perhaps allowing me to catch the fool who set the Guidepost up in the first place and give them a piece of my mind, and maybe a hardy fist to the face and genitals. Maybe I was being harsh but it wouldn’t be the first time some bumbling amateur ruined everything with an ego-powered mistake. After setting the wards I found myself needing to take a break and recover some of my mystic power. I poured myself a second cup of coffee and after a moment I decided that I wanted to play some music to pass the time. I drew my rune-etched guitar from my robe and spent a moment tuning it. The runes allowed me to enjoy the sounds of a standard electric guitar without the needed amp, speaker, or electricity. Call it an indulgence but I’d earned the few I had, and I liked to play music so it was time and credits well spent. Using my Audio Illusion magic I didn’t even need band mates to play any music I wanted, I just provided the singing and guitar parts and filled in the rest with magic. Apple eat your heart out. After a moment of considering, I settled on a rather fun and slightly technical piece I enjoyed and started to play. The music poured out as I let the guitar riffs flow through my fingers and started to sing. I closed my eyes and thought back to the time I had spent in America and Canada during the Twentieth Century, traveling around the small towns and the large cities, meeting new people and smiting the occasional evil. Those were some fun times and being among humans again had been a nice change of pace. As the first song finished I opened my eyes and looked up to see a peculiar sight; a zebra-creature was on the edge of my camp staring at me with a mix wide-eyed wonder and practiced restraint. Sporting a Mohawk and an assortment of gold jewelry I quickly deduced it was both sentient and curious but not yet hostile. ‘Well…shit.’ I was thankful I hadn’t activated my wards yet so I wouldn’t have to spend that energy again but I didn’t want my new visitor to run off before we could talk so I figured another song couldn’t hurt. Rather than make any aggressive movements or freak out, I gave my visitor a gentle smile and a nod and began another song, with less energy to bring the mood down a bit. Sure enough as the song poured out of the air around me, the zebra relaxed a bit and I think I even saw a smile on its face before it slowly moved closer to my camp. I was glad for the chance to talk to someone while not disguised but feared frightening anyone before I could explain myself. As the song ended I looked at my visitor and smiled again. “Hello there, and welcome to my humble camp. My name is Aradael, ‘uh-rad-ay-el’. I realize it’s a rather hard name to pronounce, so my friends just called me ‘Day-el’ for short. And who might you be, friend?” I was hoping that peaceful negotiations were still on the table. The zebra smiled and replied in a rather sing-song cadence, “I am named Zecora my unusual looking friend, and what manner of being are you with a name so hard to bend?” From the voice I figured it was a she and I had to admit, the whole rhyming thing was rather cute. I gave a friendly laugh. “My kind refers to themselves as humans, or homo sapiens if I’m being scientific about it. I’m a traveler from another place and I’ve come to these lands hoping to meet new entities and offer my services to those in need. I’ve taken to camping out here because…well, I was afraid my looks may frighten the locals.” I gave myself a disarming scratch on the back of my head to help sell my supposed embarrassment. Zecora smiled disarmingly, “Yes, looking different can lead to undeserved fear, but once informed the townsponies become dear.” I raised an eyebrow with a small smile. “I take it even zebras are considered a bit different around these parts?” With a smirk she replied, “I was once the ‘terror of the wood’, but a brave young filly took a chance and soon was understood. I now live on the edge of the Everfree, but every now and then they come to visit me. Potions and tonics are what I often craft, I also study nature where others mock and laugh.” I gave her a big smile. “You’re both a shaman and an apothecary? Well color me impressed Zecora. I’d love to talk shop sometime, if that’s okay. I myself am an Arcanist and it’s always nice to meet a peer in the field.” This zebra was fast becoming an interesting acquaintance and I could tell she was surprised at my ability to understand her strange way of talking. What could I say; I enjoy some poetry every now and then. Don’t judge me. “That does indeed sound like an interesting time, but I find myself wondering about your acceptance of my rhyme.” Her eyebrow was quirked but I could tell she was trying to tease me. “Oh? I didn’t even notice you were speaking out in rhyme. I apologize for missing that it must feel like a crime.” I kept my expression sincere to sell the bit. Her twitch was totally worth it. 'Two can play at that game my dear.' She suddenly gave a warm laugh, seeing that we had each seen through the others’ ruse. “Perhaps sometime you’d like to visit me; we can speak of things over cake and tea?” “That sounds excellent. In fact, I’d like to walk you home. I know these woods aren’t safe. I had to chase off some wolves last night with a little show of force, but I didn’t kill anything. I figured it was bad manners. It will also let me know where you live.” I threw my trademark wink in at the end and sure enough I noticed her slight twitch of embarrassment before she smiled warmly again. She nodded and turned to walk away and I stashed my guitar and followed after extinguishing the coals of my campfire. As I exited the area I activated the alarm wards and circles from the outside and caught up to Zecora. I was rather excited to talk to another practitioner and the chance to improve my potion brewing was a definite plus. Zecora didn’t know what to make of the strange being when she'd first laid eyes on him after following the strangest sounds she’d ever heard in the Everfree to their source. Tall, like a bald and hornless minotaur, it sat by the coals of a campfire and sang in a wonderfully robust and smooth (if she was being honest) voice although some of the lyrics seemed like nonsense to her. Its hands flowed over a stringed instrument, much like a concert cello or bass and played without a bow but with dexterous fingers plucking notes in a dazzling display while the accompaniment seemed to flow from the surrounding air via magic. It was truly beautiful. The second song she liked even more and she found herself quite close to the creature before she’d even realized it. After talking to this Aradael however, she found herself rather charmed by the human. He didn’t give off any bad vibes and he didn’t seem irritated by her rhyming speech, something she found a little flattering. He was even a fellow practitioner of the arts and braved the Everfree like herself. She was a little excited to have a new friend over and played the previous conversation over in her mind while leading the man to her hut. It was always nice to make a new friend.