• Published 21st Feb 2017
  • 2,676 Views, 464 Comments

Dogged Determination - kudzuhaiku



Every dog has their day. This is a story about that day. And in no way is the narrator influencing what is said here.

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Some bitches have all the luck

It was easy to fall down a hole—you aimed yourself downwards and let gravity handle the rest. Falling down a hole was certainly preferable to allowing herself to be caught by Dig Dag. This time, her insolence would cost her a leg, maybe more. Sharp claws allowed her to slow her fall, but she knew that she would be picking gravel out of delicate places later.

Still better than Dig Dag.

Shēdo came to a skidding halt and blinked a few times. It was dark down here, too dark for even her eyes to see, which were accustomed to the dark places found below ground. Tilting her head back, she looked up. There was no sunlight to be seen, the opening she had lept down was far too tiny for Dig Dag and his hunters. She had slid down the hole at an angle and now she was where the sun did not shine.

It had been nice seeing the sun, even if it had almost blinded her after going months without seeing it. She fumbled around with the crude pack slung to her back and almost tore her tattered patchwork vest. Whimpering in the dark, she made herself be more careful, as what few possessions she had were precious things. Her patchwork vest had been made for her by Minori out of old scraps and bits of rats.

After much effort, she freed herself from her pack filled with what few meager supplies she had managed to filch. She wasn’t proud about stealing, but Minori had forgiven her in advance, and that sort of made things okay. With her paw, she fumbled around inside, found a short stick with a sticky end, and pulled it out. Back inside her paw went and after much searching, she found her chunk of flint and a sliver of steel, a rare treasure indeed.

What had once been part of a shattered spearhead was now Shēdo’s most valuable possession. In the dark, she struck the sliver of steel against her chunk of flint and bright showers of sparks appeared, almost blinding her. Some of the sparks landed on the stick with the sticky end. After a few tries, the pitch ignited and Shēdo had herself a torch so that she could see.

Standing up, she held the torch up to have a look around. What she saw intrigued her. Refusing to be distracted, she hunkered back down, scooped up her treasures with one paw, and stuffed them back into her makeshift rucksack. Now she was free to have a look around at her curious surroundings.

The walls were made of crumbling bricks and there were spiderwebs everywhere. She stuck her torch into a wad of webbing, made a circular motion, and smiled when her torch blazed a little brighter. Shēdo One-Fang had a curious smile, a smile she was not ashamed of. She wore her smile like a badge of honour.

Dig Dag had punched her right in the snout for being a defiant pup.

The torchlight flickered and cast dancing shadows along her short, sparse, plain grey fur. Most of it had fallen out from malnutrition and abuse. Even now, her stomach rumbled and growled, but she had no food in her rucksack. Turning about, she faced a rotten, crumbling door. The hinges had long since rusted away and the rotten, decaying wood leaned against the door frame.

This was an old place, from long ago. Shēdo knew of these old places because the males in her tribe talked about all of the old places they had found and plundered. She waited, her ears perked, trying to detect the sound of digging, worried that she might be followed. But it was quiet, far too quiet, and she was all alone with nothing but the growls of her stomach to keep her company.

Her eyes, mismatched, glittered in the torchlight. Like her mother, she had one pale blue eye and one pale green eye. Her mother had been a spirit seer, but Shēdo saw no evidence of spirits when she peered into the flames of the forge. She only saw hot pokers left there as a reminder to make bitches behave.

Turning her head, she looked back at the place where she had fallen down. There was no going back, only forwards. The door seemed the obvious choice. The pads of her hindpaws were silent against the stone, Shēdo walked on shadows, just as Minori had taught her. She approached the door, cautious, holding her torch.

The door crumbled at her touch, much of it collapsing into dusty, rotten splinters.

Beyond the crumbling doorway, darkness beckoned, begging to be banished.


Every dog has their day, and Shēdo was enjoying hers. This old buried building was quite a place and she poked both her snout and her torch into every inviting corner. Once, this had been a beautiful place, she could tell by the stone blocks, but now, it was just a ruin. But it was a nice ruin, filled with big, juicy, delicious spiders.

She had no idea what this place had been, but it was big. It was bigger than the mine that she and her clan called home. Room after room filled with old, rotten things. And spiders. A veritable feast of spiders. There were rats here too, she could smell them, but she hadn’t yet seen one. If she did see one though, she planned to have a delicious rat roast for dinner.

Even better, she wouldn’t have to share.

In the middle of a large, round room, she found an opening in the floor. At some point, a trap door might have existed there, but it had long since crumbled away. The stone stairs were still very much intact though, and Shēdo found herself curious as to what might be down there. She hesitated at the top of the stairs and squinted at her torch. It was sputtering a bit, but it should still be good for a while. If worst came to worst, she could feel her way out of here.


She was deep beneath the ground now and the air was stale. Shēdo’s paws made not a single sound upon the stairs and she was almost holding her breath as she descended. Something about this place made her hackles stand up. She could smell magic, strange magic, and her diggy-diggy claws tingled with strange energy.

At the bottom of the stairs was a long hallway and double doors that had long since crumbled away. She stepped over the rubble and made her way forwards with a peculiar sensation vibrating in her diggy-diggy claws. Ahead of her was a long table that hadn’t yet rotted away for some reason, and there were things on the table.

At the far end of the table was something that needed a meal more than she did. Shēdo peered ahead, squinting in the darkness, and her eyes took in the sight of the very hungry pony. He was all bones and he wore rusting, crumbling armor. Or maybe a she. Shēdo didn’t know and she couldn’t tell. The bones were sitting in a fine looking chair that only showed the beginnings of rot.

One mouldering hoof rested upon the pommel of a sword.

And lo, thus did the hero find the sword.

“Who’s there?” Shēdo demanded. She looked about, her head jerking around. She couldn’t tell if the words had been inside or outside of her head. “Show yourself, or I stab you with my diggy-diggy claws!”

And thus, the hero did show that she was brave.

Again with the mysterious words that she was unable to locate the origin. The torch trembled in her paw and Shēdo knew that the torch was a poor weapon. She stared at the old bones and was certain that they had moved. The skull appeared to be laughing at her, it’s jawbone hung open and something about the empty eye sockets seemed merry.

“Woof!”

The sound echoed through the ancient gallery, but nothing answered. Shēdo licked her one fang and decided that it might be best to arm herself with the fancy sword. The sword didn’t look rusted at all and the grip appeared to be made out of fine jade. Now she was certain that the old bones were looking right at her, she had blinked and the skull had moved.

Reaching out, she took the sword in her paw and lifted it. She felt strange, peculiar, she felt strong, warm, and powerful. The sword thrummed in her grip, and she let out a whimper of fear. It was like touching a beehive and the jade grip was warm against her grippy paw pads. She whirled the sword around, flicked the latchet with her thumb, and the sheath slid off. It clattered to the floor with the sound of metal on stone.

The room filled with a baleful green glow and Shēdo was mesmerised by the blade she held. It blazed with witchy green fire that danced along the straight, broad blade that was as long as she was tall. And Shēdo wasn’t very tall, not yet, but one day, she would be. Maybe. She hoped.

“At last, I am unsheathed! Oh, it feels so good to unsheath and let it all hang out!”

The voice made Shēdo’s ears attempt to stand up and she almost dropped the blade.

“Oh, by the mighty teats of the alicorns, I am FREE!”

“What are you?” Shēdo asked. The sword in her paw felt almost weightless.

“No, who am I. Who!”

Swallowing, Shēdo stared at the glowing green blade as her torch flickered out and went dark. “Who are you?” she asked.

“I am Limey. Now be a dear and get us out of this hole, will you?”

“Maybe I should put you back,” Shēdo said.

“Now why would you want to do that?” Limey demanded. “I am the all powerful butterknife! Toast shall look upon me and despair! I can cut cheese without effort!”

The diamond dog tried to drop the blade but found that she could not. Whimpering, she focused on pulling her paw away and she flung the sword. There was a flash of green and the sword was right back in her paw. She let out a startled yelp and tossed down her burned out torch so she could grip the sword with both paws.

“Listen up, pup. Let me spare you the trouble. I’m a cursed sword, but I’m not a bad sort. You see that pile of bones over there? I turned that worthless so and so into a powerful warlord. He took me into battle and carved himself out an empire. He brought peace and prosperity to his fellow ponies.”

“What are you?” Shēdo asked again.

“Who, am I… I am Limey, the Chaotic Spirit of Narration! Haven’t you heard of me?”

“No.” Shēdo’s voice was rather quiet in the dark.

“What, did you grow up in a cave or something, pup?” the sword asked.

“Yes,” Shēdo replied.

The sword let out an arrogant sniff. “I am Limey, the Chaotic Spirit of Narration. I am the victim of prejudice, I tell you. A long, long, long time ago, some annoying little filly named Celestia set out to prove herself, and she sought to battle the ancient enemy of her kind, the draconequus. She was in a big damn hurry to grow up and make a name for herself.”

“I see.” Intrigued, Shēdo’s floppy ears perked up, or tried to.

“My only crime was my lack of symmetry!” Limey cried and his blade flashed a brighter shade of green. “She came out of nowhere, this dorky little filly with her big stupid glasses, and so we threw down. And I get my ass kicked by a bookworm. A bookworm!”

Shēdo didn’t know what a bookworm was, but books were sacred and special. The idea of worms eating them made her feel uncomfortable.

“I’m immortal, see, and she can’t exactly kill me. She’s mortal though, but I don’t exactly want to kill her. But I’m getting my ass handed to me by this brat that I’ve heard stories about, and the last thing I want to do is call down the wrath of the almighty alicorns by killing her. She beats my ass like an unloved third born, wrecks my body, and then binds my immortal spirit into this sword, that mouthy, know-it-all little cunt!”

Blinking, Shēdo understood prejudice. She was a diamond dog, an unloved and wretched creature.

“The mouthy little know-it-all underestimated my power and I escaped before she completed her awful alicorn transformation magics. I was still able to keep doing my schtick and being a sword isn’t so bad. Now I can heckle everyone and everything without consequences.”

“What is it that you do?” Shēdo asked, as she understood very little of what was being said.

“Well,” Limey replied, “I used to follow around Eternity and narrate her every action in a big dramatic voice. She did her best to banish me, but I kept coming back. She was just so studious, so serious, how could I resist? Her boring existence begged for narration, and being a generous spirit, I provided it for her. Like every other alicorn, she was an ungrateful hoof rag!”

Not understanding exactly what narration was, Shēdo’s head tilted off to one side.

“Then I narrated the brothers Chronos and Pale for a while, but they were exceedingly boring. BOOOOOOOORING!” Limey’s voice echoed through the chamber and Shēdo heard the rattle of old bones.

“When this little crybaby blue alicorn filly was born, I did some of my best narration ever, and my heckling was the first sound she heard. I can’t recall her name, but she was fond of staying up way past her bedtime. Oh, the fun I had narrating her potty training!”

As the sword continued, Shēdo began to suspect that the sword might have deserved his fate. Still, he was a sword, and he seemed powerful. She eyed the old pile of bones in the chair and now was certain that they had moved once more. Both forelegs were crossed over his ribcage and his mouth was closed. She tried to recall how he looked when she had first saw him.

“So, tell me, pup, how would you like to be a hero with a magic sword?” Limey asked. “I’m a Plus Five Hecklemaster!”

Upon hearing this question, Shēdo’s first thought was of Dig Dag. Maybe she could cut him down and save Minori from her dreadful fate. A magic sword could go a long way towards making her powerful enough to face Dig Dag. She nodded and bowed her head to the sword she held in both paws.

“I am going to have so much fun narrating our adventures, my wacky little kensai puppy!”

Author's Note:

This is a test. If this story is received well, it will gain more chapters. If not, well, I'll hit the complete tag and this will become a self-contained adventure with just one chapter. The whole premise of the story is rather sketchy to begin with, and to be honest, I don't know if it was a good idea to even post this one chapter.

My apologies in advance for subjecting you to this.