//------------------------------// // |♫| ᴠɪ. The Tribulation // Story: This Game of Mine // by Swan Song //------------------------------//          S E V E R A L   M O N T H S   A G O . . . S I L V E R   S P O O N   A… gryphon player? “I’m giving you horseturds ‘til the count of three!” it warned, holding its stance from down the street. “One!” “Just great,” Dovetail muttered under her breath from behind her overturned table. “Didn’t it say it was from one of those Houses you mentioned?” I asked, crouched behind a wastebin. “Can we just shoot it?” “No!” she snapped. “She’s just another player! If she really meant any harm, she’d have killed us by now. Besides, I don’t really want to know how long we’ll last against that Thunderlord.” Thunderlord…? “TWO!” the gryphon snarled, hefting the gigantic machine gun in its grasp. Ah. The hulking phallic symbol. Right. “Okay, okay,” said Dovetail, panicking visibly. “Maybe if we—” “Will you just calm down, Dovetail?” I said with a roll of my eyes, standing up. “It’s a video game, for Sun’s sake.” “Huh? Wait, Shadow, what are you—” “You there, gryphon!” I shouted, stepping out into the sunlight. The gryphon snapped its sight to me. “Hey! I thought I told you to—” “Oh come off it already,” I said, holstering my rifle over my back. “If any of us wanted the other dead, there’d have been bodies on the floor ten seconds ago.” “Hah!” It let out a shriek of laughter. “You say that as if you wouldn’t have been one of—” “Even if I had been one of them, I would have been resurrected at our last checkpoint, and nothing would have been accomplished,” I dismissed with a shrug. “It’d be a waste of your time and mine if we were to try and kill each other, and truth be told, after wandering around in circles for the last hour, I’m growing rather weary of it. So let’s just drop the pretense, shall we? Maybe we can actually accomplish something meaningful.” “Oh yeah?” she sneered. “Like what?” “Well, do you happen to know anything about the…” Blast, what was it called… “What are we looking for again, Dove?” “The… the Autumn’s Lair…” she muttered from a few meters behind me. “Shadow, what are you doing?” “Asking for directions,” I answered flatly, then turned back to the gryphon. “Anyways, yes, that thing. Autumn’s Lair. Whatever. We’re looking for it. Do you know of it?” The gryphon stared back at me, its face scrunched up in confusion. A few moments passed until apparently it regained its composure, though its eyes never strayed from the weapon’s sight. “And just what makes you think I’d share that info, even if I did?” “Because we also have plenty of information. Perhaps if we compared notes, we’d both be a little closer to finding this place?” “What do you know?” she demanded. “Ah-ah-ah,” I chided. “That’s not how this works. We do not volunteer information at gunpoint. Do you see me holding a gun to your face? No.” “Your friend is still in cover,” she said defensively. “I don’t know what her plan is.” “Right. Fair. Dovetail, be a dear and come out, would you?” A groan from behind the table, and eventually Dovetail poked out her ostentatiously-hued mane, weapon holstered. “Wonderful. So now that we’re all on the same page…?” I gave the gryphon a withering stare. “Fine.” It slowly lowered the machine gun, though its posture remained defensive. “What do you know about Autumn Lair?” “Me?” I shrugged. “Absolutely nothing. Dovetail’s the one who actually cares about all this stuff. I just follow her around and shoot things when she asks me to.” The gryphon gave me a pained expression, before turning to my companion. “You actually play with this guy?” “Don’t ask,” she grumbled in reply, face buried in a hoof. Ignoring the comment at my expense, I raised my rifle and made towards the street. “Right! Well then. Since it appears you two are getting along swimmingly, I’ll just stand over there and watch for danger, while you two have your little study buddy session.” Despite her boorish introduction, the gryphon player was unexpectedly agreeable, and it was thankfully only a few short minutes of hushed conversation before we were on the move once again, now with a third along for the ride. The addition of our gryphon companion turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. On one hoof, the combined knowledge of my two traveling partners meant we actually had a clearer notion of the Autumn Lair’s location, and thus made our way through the streets of Highcrowne with renewed purpose and speed. On the other, it also resulted in a non-stop torrent of babbling as the two, for lack of a better description, ‘geeked out’. “…makes the House of Kings different from, say, the House of Autumn, or any of the other Forlorn Houses?” asked Dovetail with eager curiosity. “No addiction to Chaotic energies,” explained the gryphon. “When the Chaos was brought into our nation during the Collapse, the Kings refused to partake. The other Houses all succumbed, gained crazy chaos powers, and tried to wipe us out. Those of us that survived fled underground, and only re-emerged a few centuries after the Collapse, once we had recuperated enough strength.” Pah. This gryphon spoke as if it truly were a product of all this fiction. I hadn’t thought it possible to meet a creature that was even more obsessed with living out this fantasy than Dovetail. But alas! I suppose the world found amusement in surprising me yet again. “Were the Houses always at each others’ throats?” Dovetail asked. “Kind of?” The gryphon scratched its chin. “I mean, in real-world Highcrowne, they never really fought each other outside of the Coliseum Royale.” So the Gryphosi Houses were real. Interesting. “But it was common for the them to compete in other stuff,” the gryphon continued, “like seeing which one could build the tallest towers in their district.” “Wow,” said Dovetail in awe as she gazed upwards at the crumbling skyscrapers, many of which still stood regally even after centuries of abandonment. “The gryphons were really obsessed with towers, huh?” What an astute observation. “Yeah, well, gryphons like heights,” explained our impromptu guide, who pointed up. “See all those busted stone walkways sticking out of the towers? In real life Highcrowne, there’s a shit-ton of those everywhere. The city has entire networks of streets floating in the skies, connecting all the towers together.” “Horseapples, that’s amazing,” cooed the star-struck Dovetail. “Yep! In fact, the city is separated into levels, instead of just blocks like pony cities are. Hel, even this part of the city isn’t ground level. There’s probably entire districts right underneath our feet.” “No way, that’s crazy!” exclaimed Dovetail like a giddy schoolgirl. “I couldn’t even tell from my airship when we landed here. Most of Highcrowne is shrouded in ash and fog.” “Heh, that’s probably from all the lava.” “Lava?” She raised her eyebrow. “Why lava?” “Well, the real Highcrowne is built inside of a huge caldera.” “Um, what’s a caldera?” asked Dovetail, cocking her head quizzically. Stars above, Sweetie Belle. “It’s a crater,” I droned. “A big-ass crater,” said the gryphon with a nod. “That’s why there’s so many levels and skyscrapers in Highcrowne. Once the city builders hit the edges of the crater, there was nowhere left to go but up. Gryphon engineering is pretty badass.” “But… but how does a crater that big that even form?” asked Dovetail, whose expression grew more awestruck with each moment. “Usually from a massive meteor impact, but more often it’s the mouth of a volcano,” I said. “A volcano?!” she blurted in shock. “Wait, the gryphons built a city inside a volcano?” “A dead one!” said the gryphon quickly. “Dead for, like, hundreds of thousands of years. There’s pretty much zero risk of it erupting.” Right. I’m sure that’s what the Gryphosi government told all of its citizens on a regular basis so they could sleep at night without knowing they rested upon a mattress of landmines. “But wait,” said Dovetail, her expression twisted in confusion. “If it’s a dead volcano… why did you mention lava?” “It’s just in this game,” the gryphon said. “Whatever the Chaos did to cause the Collapse all those centuries ago made the volcano erupt, I think. Hel, it’s fucking called the Collapse because of how the Chaos dunked half of Highcrowne in molten lava after it tore open Discord’s torrid asshole right underneath the city. Ponykind probably just snatched up the word to refer to the end of the Golden Age in general.” Eurgh. This player was not giving me good vibes. It was hideously knowledgeable about Gryphosi culture, and far too passionate to boot… though I supposed I should have seen it coming, considering it would go so far as to choose a gryphon as its character. Apparently, this sentiment was echoed by Dovetail, who immediately made her curiosity clear. “So wait, how the heck do you know all this stuff, anyways? Are you some kind of Canterlot scholar or something?” “Heh, Canterlot?” A nervous chuckle. “Why would I live there? I’m from Highcrowne.” Geh. A Gryphosi sympathizer. Just what we needed. “Wow, that’s amazing,” piped Dovetail. “So, like, a foreign exchange student?” “…no, like, born and raised,” it answered hesitantly. “I’m a gryphon in real life.” I stopped dead in my tracks, and so did Dovetail. We slowly turned to her. “…What did you just say?” I growled, my voice seething with disbelief. “What, you deaf or something?” it asked, a little irritation creeping into its voice. “I’m a gryphon, alright? I thought you guys realized! Look, I know you’re ponies and all, but can you please not freak out?” Dovetail seemed shocked into silence. So I stepped forward and spoke for both of us. “This whole time, I thought you were a pony playing as a gryphon,” I snarled. “That, at least, would be significantly less shocking! Why didn’t you say anything?!” “Okay, dude, you need to chill,” it said, its eyes narrowing like daggers. “Like I said, I didn’t say anything because I thought it was obvious! Why else would I be playing a gryphon if not because I am one?” “A warning would have been appreciated!” I snapped at her. “Guys, calm down—” “What the Hel did you even need a warning for?” it shot back. “Why’s it such a big deal if I’m a gryphon?!” “Guys! Can we please—” “Because we’re at war!” I shouted. “You think I don’t know that?!” it shrieked back at me. “I’m a Legionnaire, for fuck’s sake! I’m sitting on the King-forsaken border between our—!” “WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP!” We froze. Slowly, we turned to the tiny little filly that had just overpowered us with her squeaky voice. “First off,” she began between labored breaths, “we’re not at war. Second of all, Shadow, you can’t seriously give a flying feather that she’s a gryphon—” “What if I do?” I interrupted her. “Then stop, or I’m kicking you from my fireteam and you can find your way back to the City alone!” she threatened me without hesitation. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but right now, we’re playing Eternity, and in this game, whatever dumb stupid thing is going on in the real world between the ponies and the gryphons doesn’t exist. We only have one enemy right now, and it’s the Stars-Forsaken House of Flippin’ Autumn, alright?!” A moment of silence passed… …until the gryphon let out a goofy snort. Dovetail suddenly whirled on her. “What? What’s so damn funny?!” “Whoa, relax, okay?” It held up placating claws. “That was a touching speech and all, and balls, I appreciate it. It’s just…” “It’s just what?” Dovetail demanded. “Well, uh…” The gryphon scratched its cheek. “Your pony swears are kinda… I dunno. Cute?” Dovetail went red. “They’re not cute!” “…They kinda are,” I pointed out in agreement. “Grrrr...!” she stomped her hoof and made an angry growling noise… “Shit!” Suddenly, the gryphon aimed its machine gun at Dovetail, whose eyes widened. “What the—!” “Behind you!” the gryphon shouted. We whirled around, only to find that we had been surrounded by a small platoon of dregs. One of them carried a tall orange banner stitched with strange glyphs upon a pole. “Shadow! The flag-bearer! NOW!” I acted almost on instinct, my rifle raised within a split second. Just as the dreg began turning its head towards the sky, I had fired off a round that promptly tore through its open mouth, piercing its throat and killing it instantly. All at once, the Forlorn unleashed a hail of bullets in response. “Crap!” Dovetail raised her shield, and I frantically reached for my sidearm. “MOVE!” came a hawkish shriek behind us. I whirled around again, only to see the gryphon surging forth with knives in its talons, surrounded by a crackling field of barely-restrained electric power. I leapt out of its way as it raced past me and began brutally tearing into the tiny platoon, unleashing shockwave of arc energy towards the hapless dregs with each slash. As we watched the gryphon perform its deadly dance, Dovetail exhaled with a breathy sigh. “I love Bladedancers.” The Forlorn squad barely lasted ten seconds under the onslaught, until at last, the gryphon’s knife came to the throat of the its last member—a Forlorn captain who stood heads and shoulders above its soon-to-be-executioner. He bared his teeth in a hideous scowl. “Blood traitor,” he spat. The gryphon tore his throat open, and he crumpled to the ground. For a moment, the ruins lay silent. The gryphon’s ethereal field of power faded, and it flicked its knives towards the floor, spattering the dust-covered streets with the blood of their Forlorn victims. “This wasn’t just an ordinary patrol,” the gryphon grunted, tearing the banner off the the dreg that I had slain and turning back to us. “That was a vexillum. Standard-bearers, war-criers. You managed to nail it before it could alert the home base, but they’re gonna notice when this patrol doesn’t report in. We gotta make ourselves scarce, right now.” “Does that mean we’re getting close?” Dovetail asked as we swiftly departed the scene of the short-lived battle. “Yes,” grunted the gryphon. “They wouldn’t have vexillum anywhere but near the entrance to their stronghold. All we need to do is keep our eyes out for signs of where they’re regrouping.” “How do you even know all this?” She raised an eyebrow. “Uh, duh, Legionnaire.” “Oh… right.” An uncomfortable silence befell the group as we were swiftly reminded of the… unusual reality of our company. After a few moments, the gryphon whirled around and spread its wings. “We need to find another patrol and tail ‘em back to their stronghold. I’ll go north. You two scout south. Stay out of sight, and hit me on comms if you see anything.” Without another word, she bounded up towards the roofs of the nearby buildings and stalked out of sight. “Well, looks like it’s just the two of us again,” said Dovetail. “She was fun. I like her.” "Here's my question, Dovetail," I said, turning to her. “Whatever happened to the multitude of other friends you had mentioned? Didn't you say they would be joining us?" “Well, I dunno about Zaid,” said Dovetail as she resumed her trot down the street, “but Button’s got extracurricular lessons today.” Button? He played this game with—? Oh, who was I kidding, of course he did. “I don’t know your friends by name,” I pointed out, causing her to freeze. She then looked up at me with a sheepish grin. “Oh, right! Sorry. Um, Zaid’s a stallion I met a few days ago. He’s from Saddle Arabia, and he’s always working, so his schedule’s a little bit wack compared to ours.” Sadul-Arabia, huh. “That would make sense. Their legal working hours are a great deal more intense than ours.” “Er, yeah, that.” Dovetail glanced about for a moment as we approached an intersection, before trotting down the street to our right. “Are you familiar with Saddle Arabia?” I was, yes. After all, my family’s company did have international branches, and the vast deserts of the distant caliphate were quite the literal goldmine that we were quick to exploit once the international trade agreements had relaxed just enough for it to be profitable to us. But she didn’t need to know that. “I am.” “Oh.” She blinked. “That’s cool.” ‘Cool’. That was certainly the last word I would have ascribed to the Arabi, whose culture repulsed me to my very core. Their nation was overflowing with political corruption, violent unrest, and religious strife, no doubt symptoms of its purely-male ruling body. How very primitive for such a ‘developed’ nation. I was willing to bet that the Silversmith Mining Company represented the lion’s share of contemporary civility in Sadul-Arabia. That the nation even dealt with us was beyond my comprehension… but perhaps it merely spoke of my mother’s unbridled purchasing power. After all, Sterling Silver was a mare of staggering wealth and success, two things which would certainly give pause to even the most misogynistic of caliphs. But… Sweetie Belle and a Sadul-Arabi? Now that was a mystery I was itching to solve. Unlike this silly fictional House of Autumn. “I’m surprised this… ‘friend’ of yours wants to spend time with you.” “Huh?” She glanced at me over her tome. “Why’s that?” “The Sadul-Arabi do not hold women in high regard.” Her expression only grew more puzzled. “Um, why wouldn’t they?” “Ask your ‘friend’,” I said, the final word laced with sarcasm. “I imagine he would be far better a representative of his ‘people’ than I.” Oh yes. Let him be the one to reveal to you all of the horrifying, disgusting, suppressive practices of the Sadul-Arabi, such that I may relish in the merciless ravaging of Sweetie Belle’s naïveté. “Well, I guess I can, but he’s been cool so far,” she said with a shrug. “Teases me a lot, sure, but mostly just about my size. Never because I’m a girl.” Alas. You were far too trusting, Dovetail. That you had embraced me, a viper in disguise, was a testament to that fact. “And what of this Button?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. “A classmate of mine,” she explained, as she returned her focus to the tome. “He’s, uh, a little bit of a goofball, but I love him all the same—” “Love him?” Ooh, this was a juicy bit of gossip. “Yeah, he’s one of my best friends,” she continued without missing a beat. Clearly my emphatic use of the word ‘love’ had gone far over her head. “Got me into this game and everything—” Suddenly she stopped, ears twitching madly as she glanced up. “Something wrong?” “Shh!” Dovetail’s foreleg shot up, her magnum already free of its holster. She snuck around a bend and, after a peek, waved me forward. I joined her at the bend and saw what she saw: a small platoon of Forlorn soldiers, one carrying a golden house banner. Wasting no further time, Dovetail pinged her communicator. “We found ‘em.”