Vacation Pony Paladin [Adventure]
Applejack tugged on the corkscrew, and the cork came out with a low pop. Twilight levitated several glasses, accepted the bottle of apple wine from Applejack, and started pouring for herself and her friends.
“It is certainly nice to take a break from everything once in a while,” she remarked, “especially after helping the mayor of Baltimare organize the March for Friendship and Forgiveness to help bring ponies in the city closer together.”
Rarity leaned on the edge of the balcony and sighed. “The beach is lovely this time of year – and the ocean is so calm and gentle this evening. It’s a wonderful time for a vacation!”
Applejack rolled her eyes. “I hope the boys didn’t have any trouble while we were away this week. It’s ‘boy’s night’ tonight, and I know first-hoof that Big Mac’s just dyin’ to get back to their story-game… thing.”
* * *
Discord pouted. “Do hurry up.”
Spike grumbled in response as he prepared to eat his last aquamarine. “Garbunkle doesn’t cast magic well on an empty stomach, and neither do I.”
“While I could make chapter seven play itself, that would be missing the point.”
“EeeYup.”
Spike finished chewing and swallowed. “So where were we?”
Discord cracked a grin and began narrating. As he started, the room around them started warping into the reality that he spoke of. “After defeating a trusted henchwizard of the Wicked Queen of the Western Seas – sworn enemy to her sister, the Faerie Queen of the Eastern Lands – our band of heros have learnt of the existence of an artifact buried in the Watery Grave of Artax which is said to have the ability to greatly weaken the Wicked Queen.”
By the time he had finished, Captain Wuzz of the Woodlands (a spindly though fit and agile archer with a magical hand, known throughout the lands for his charming looks), Garbunkle the Great (not quite the oldest and wisest among them, but perhaps regarded as ‘the best’ anyway, and sporting a mighty fine beard of grey), and Sir McBiggun of the North (a stoic unicorn master of the blade, clad in truly heavy but incredibly protective armor) all stood at the end of a road near the edge of a field. Ahead of them lay an expanse of trees: a forest that harbored darkness. Behind them stood the fallen minotaur city of Minos Mogis, wherein they had fought and defeated the henchwizard and his minions.
Far beyond the forest stood the mountains at the edge of the seas, where it was rumored that a powerful beast created by the Wicked Queen preyed upon all that flew too close. Somewhere between there and where they stood was the Grave of Artax and the treasure they sought.
“McBiggun,” Garbunkle spoke, “do not let your light waver in this dark, for darkness like this never comes without evil creatures waiting to strike.”
Wuzz scoffed. “I highly doubt that anything in there would be a match for us.”
Garbunkle let out a hearty laugh. “Do not be so sure, my dear Wuzz. The forest is plenty dark enough to host a number of evil creatures!” He planted his staff firmly in the ground. With a bright flash, a small orb of light appeared just above it. He lifted his staff and gave it a spin, before ending in a forward-indicating stance, his staff pointed towards the depths of the forest. “This light will take us to the most potent magic it can find, be it good... or evil.”
Wuzz rolled his eyes, but recanted the gesture after a moment of consideration. “Well I suppose it stands to reason that the most powerful evil magic would be used to protect the most powerful good magic. Next time we’re playing the side of evil.”
McBiggun illuminated his horn and held his sword at the ready, and led the way into the forest. The orb had no intention of picking the most easily traversable route, though, so in some cases obstacles had to be cleared before they could progress. To Garbunkle’s dismay, the underbrush was too wet to burn away, though a few swings of McBiggun’s sword did the job nicely.
This was one of the least exciting bits of their adventures: travel. Being properly prepared came at the cost of excitement sometimes… but not always. The forest was quiet, and with Garbunkle’s orb, McBiggun’s horn, and Wuzz’s lantern – which he had brought out and lit in the absence of anything else to do while the other two cleared the way – it was also well lit. At least, until the orb fizzled out and McBiggun’s horn self-extinguished a half-second later.
“Well it’s about time something interesting happened,” Wuzz remarked.
Spike glared back in the flickering lantern light. “You’re the one pulling the strings.”
“Pfft,” Discord replied. “I didn’t write the story or the rules, I just make it happen. Anyway, I take it your little friend wasn’t supposed to expire until we actually found what we were looking for.”
“No, it’s kinda—” Garbunkle cleared his throat. “Ahem. It’s a bit of a mystery.” He planted his staff in the same manner as he had before. “It seems that my magic doesn’t work here. What about you, McBiggun?”
McBiggun, sword in mouth, shook his head. “Mmmophe.”
“Break out the cloth and fire oil,” Garbunkle commanded. “The artifact should be nearby. We’ll have to search the area.” They processed some cloth into soaked strips, and shortly bound them to the end of two suitable branches. Contact with the flame from Wuzz’s lantern brought both of them to life. Garbunkle strapped his torch to the end of his staff with one of the remaining cloth strips, while McBiggun settled for strapping it to his horn.
“Don’t wander too far,” Wuzz said. “I’m great, but even I’m not a perfect shot in the pitch black.”
They spread out several meters in either direction and continued. The ground dropped just a bit, and quickly turned from solid and damp to mushy and flooded with water. They had only made it a couple of dozen paces when Garbunkle asked, “Did you hear that?”
McBiggun and Wuzz stopped. There was some kind of wet, deep, peeling sound.
“It sounds like something is breaking through the ground,” Wuzz remarked, and he switched his lantern over to his tail while he readied his bow.
“EeYup.”
Garbunkle nodded. “We must be close. Of course the Wicked Queen of the Western Seas wouldn’t want us to retrieve an artifact that would weaken her. This place must be cursed to keep us from using our magic!”
The peeling sound grew in volume, and the number of sources started to increase.
“Ready yourselves, and don’t let your light go out!” Garbunkle cried. “My water spells may yet work.”
Seconds later, small pockets of earth started exploding into showers of mud and decaying plant matter. In their place, hooves and heads started to poke out of the earth. The ponies pulled themselves out of the ground… but they weren’t simply ponies.
“Zombie ponies,” Wuzz spat as he let loose an arrow into an emerging form. “These things don’t stay down when they should be completely incapacitated. It tends to get annoying after the second or third arrow.”
Before long there were dozens of shapes pouring in from beyond the edges of their light, and from all directions. For every swipe McBiggun took, another group pressed forward, and usually about half of the ones he’d hit got back up. To Garbunkle’s relief, he had little difficulty casting his water-centric spells. He was still limited to a subset that excelled more in controlling and slowing the horde rather than actually defeating any of the zombie ponies. As such, he worked on keeping McBiggun’s immediate worries limited to a dozen zombie ponies as best he could, Whenever he had a moment beyond that, he tried to relocate any zombie ponies that threatened to flank either himself or Wuzz. Wuzz’s efforts provided the last bit of relief that they needed to keep the situation under control, taking down whichever zombie was most threatening to any member of their team at a given moment first.
Their lights bobbed all around, making for a rather disorienting scene, but they pressed on. The horde of zombie ponies wasn’t endless, but it still comprised of a few dozen of them... before taking into account their bad habit of getting back up. The band of heros did eventually gain an upper hoof when the number of zombie ponies started to dwindle as their bodies were forcefully degraded beyond the point of magical reanimation.
Finally it was down to the last one, and McBiggun spared no force with the swing of his sword, sending the zombie pony flying into the darkness where it landed with a wet plop. The three of them waited and listened carefully for any more signs of movement.
Seconds passed.
They all relaxed and sighed in relief when they were met with nothing but silence. Wuzz and Garbunkle had kept their distance, and thus had not been in a position to be wounded, while McBiggun’s armor had successfully prevented him from being injured. They were still exhausted, though. Before they could truly take a moment’s break, McBiggun’s horn-torch burnt out, plunging him in near-complete darkness.
“No!” Garbunkle cried. “McBiggun!”
Before he or Wuzz could react beyond that, they heard a very deep, subtle, and definitely unhappy growl from somewhere very nearby.
“AHHHHHH!” McBiggun screamed as he charged back into the light cast by his comrade’s flames.
“Why can’t my character be whatever that was,” Discord asked.
Spike rolled his eyes. “It wouldn’t exactly be fair if you started as a powerful magical beast.”
“So?” Discord said. “I’m the Spirit of Chaos in Equestria, and that’s not very fair. Wouldn’t it be fair for my unfairness to carry over into a fantasy adventure since that’s how it really is?”
“No.” Spike replied flatly. “Besides, that’s not the point of a fantasy game. You should be something different, and in your case, that means playing by the rules. Besides, the Legendary Dark Beast of ‘AHHH’ is kind of a joke nowadays. It’s been used as a darkness-dwelling death-penalty for generations in all sorts of games.”
Discord sighed and pouted. “Fine.”
“Now,” Garbunkle said, “We still have an artifact to find. The curse is still blocking my more useful magic, but at least I can still keep the water out of our boots.”
“How do you propose we find the artifact, oh great Garbunkle?” Wuzz responded.
“Well… ” Garbunkle gave Wuzz’s question some consideration. “I don’t think Artax was buried here after he died, so, naturally, the most dangerous spot in the vicinity is the most likely to hold the artifact.”
Wuzz raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t see a problem with this?”
Garbunkle let on a wily smile. “Artax may have been a powerful unicorn, but he was no Great Wizard. If this was a trap set for Artax by the Wicked Queen, the bog in the surrounding area probably has spots deep enough to drown somepony without magic. Before you complain, I’ve still got a trick or two up my sleeve...”
Garbunkle’s wily smile grew into a manic grin. Taking the bottle of fire oil, he poured a reasonable quantity of it at his feet and watched it mingle with a small puddle of water. Next, he twirled his staff, causing his torch to make a cool whooshing noise, and planted it firmly in the ground. The resultant magical shockwave specifically drove all the water in the soil away for a good few-dozen meters in every direction.
“Oh, great,” Wuzz said. “Now we we’ve wasted half a bottle of fire oil.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Garbunkle remarked. Barely containing his smugness, he took the torch end of his staff and carefully touched it to the ground where he had poured the fire oil. Strands of fire shot out to his left and right on the ground, and the edges of the now-dry circle burst into flames as they met, casting light over a much larger area than their torch and lantern could.
“EeeYup.”
Not a dozen meters before them, the dry ground angled down rather sharply. When they neared the edge of the hole, they could easily see the glint of a small golden ring sitting atop what was probably a pile of bones. Garbunkle made his way down into the hole, and as he drew near, he could feel that the ring had significant magical properties – it was an ability he invested in early on. He picked it up, and verified that it was indeed a magic artifact. A horn-augment, to be precise, to be worn on a unicorn’s horn.
Wuzz’s disappointed voice came from the edge of the hole. “How come McBiggun gets all the goodies? How is that fair?”
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7769391
It bears repeating.
You bastard.
Still, a very good showing in the Swamp of Sorrow. There really do need to be more stories set in the Guys' Night O&O campaign.
Disappoint. Now there's an interesting card mechanic.
7779967
There's probably at least a dozen references in the first few paragraphs, and you single out The Watery Grave of Artax?
To be fair, I knew I'd be kicking somebody in the gut with that.
Perhaps he died while carving it?
I can't either. XD
7780836
You play it, and then you're just like, aw, man...