After millennia of slumber, the ponies of Tambelon have awoken. For good or ill, they set their sights on the surface.
Tapper awoke, fatigue in her bones. The exhaustion was expected.
Her den was small and plain, like all slave dens. Today, she would eat, toil, and sleep… and maybe… maaaayyyybeee…
Listening for interlopers, Tapper removed the broken brick. Her locket was gone, replaced with black dust. Had somepony stolen it? In all of Tambelon, her locket held the only picture of the sun. Though seeing it in the darkness was impossible… she still missed it.
Stretching, she found that her chains were gone, replaced with more dust. Same with the door.
Another test. Another trap.
Tapper rested, awaiting the bell.
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