The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story

by TheMessenger

23. What Lies Beneath

23. What Lies Beneath

“Look out!”

Rarity’s warning left her lips before she could think twice, and at the sound of her voice the yak turned and caught the wicked blade right before it could sink into his neck. He reached for his own weapon, but before he could grab his axe, the unicorn snarled and launched themselves at the yak. The blow caused the larger creature to stagger back and sent the both of them tumbling down the stairs and out of sight. A series of thumps and pained yelps could be heard echoing along the walls punctuated by a loud splash.

Rarity slowly made her way to the edge of the secret passage. A few flickering torches provided some dim light, but it wasn’t enough to see what happened at the stairway’s bottom no matter who hard she squinted. She was about to turn and get help when she heard a groan. Someone was hurt. Surely some creature had heard the scuffle and was answering the massage therapist’s call for security, but Rarity couldn’t be certain that those at the bottom could afford to wait for the guards’ assistance.

She started her descent, moving slowly as she watched each step by the light of the flickering torch flame. It didn’t take very long to reach the last few steps, which she took even greater caution as the surfaces had become slippery. Rarity’s nose wrinkled at the putrid smell of excrement and who knew what else, and she eyed the massive puddle below her that covered entire floor with a frown, the water as black and murky as a foggy evening. Every part of Rarity urged her to go back upstairs where it was safe and clean and there would be no danger of wasting her recent bathing efforts, but a mound of flesh and fur partially submerged in the center of the room stopped her from returning to the surface.

“Are you alright?” Rarity called out. The mound stirred but did not answer. Sighing, Rarity stepped down into the puddle, shivering as the water rose up and reached to the tops of her fetlocks. Each step she took wading forward caused her to squirm and wince and whine, and her only solace was that there was at least a bath close by for later use, permitting that the business would be willing to extend her time for her good deed or perhaps to head off any complaints.

“Excuse me, are you alright?” Rarity tried again once she had reached the mass. She held out her hoof and press it against the fur. Suddenly, the body of the yak rose out of the water with a roar, and in her surprise, Rarity slipped and fell, dousing her just cleaned coat and mane in water dirtied with who knew what.

“Out of all the, oh, this, oh,” was all she managed to say before breaking down into an anguished bawl. Her wails filled the room, ringing loudly against the walls around her. “This is the. Worst. Possible—“

Something splashed right next to Rarity, forcing her to close her mouth to avoid getting any of the polluted water inside. She looked to see the unicorn attendant lying face up, unmoving and with Xs over their eyes. The water around her started to move in waves, and she turned to find the yak standing over her. Rarity swallowed at the sight of his axe leaned against his shoulder with the blades gleaning by the light of the torches. His expression was unreadable, his eyes covered by braided bangs and mouth slightly bent in a neutral frown.

Rarity flinched when the yak raised a foreleg, but when she opened her eyes, she saw that he was only holding out a large cloven hoof toward her. “O-oh. Thank you,” Rarity said as she accepted the offered hoof and let him help her up onto her feet. She did as much as she could to wipe off what gunk and grime clung to her body, but it still left her white fur discolored and sticky, and she had doubts that whatever they had added to the baths would be enough to fix all this. She forced back a second round of crying and instead asked the yak, “So then, are you doing alright?”

The yak stared at Rarity for a couple of moments, causing her to wonder if he had misunderstood the question, before he turned away and started stretched his limbs and rotated his head side to side, leaning it against both shoulders. He then glanced over at the unicorn who had attacked him, snorted, and walked over to the wall to removed one of the torches from its sconce.

“I’ll, um, take that as a yes,” Rarity said with a wary smile. She pointed up to the top of the stairs. “Why don’t we return to the main floor? I don’t quite think we‘re allowed to be down here, but I’m sure that if we take the time to explain—“

The yak stuck the flaming torch right before Rarity’s face, causing her to interrupt herself with a yelp and take a few steps back. “Excuse me? What is the matter with you? You can’t just shove something as dangerous as an open flame into a lady’s—“

The yak grunted and turned the torch around so that the handle was presented to Rarity. Rarity stared at the end of torch that wasn’t burning then at the yak hold it with her eyebrows raised. The yak huffed and just kept gesturing at the handle and her.

“You want me, to hold that?” Rarity ventured. The yak nodded and continued to gesture until Rarity finally accepted the torch, making sure that the hot flame was a good distance away from her hair. “Well, ah, I’m afraid I’m not too entirely sure what you want me to do with this. Why don’t I just give this back to you and—“

“Yak,” the yak grunted. He motioned with a foreleg and directed Rarity’s gaze to an opening in one of the side walls she hadn’t noticed before. It appeared to be a hallway but leading to what, Rarity couldn’t tell. The darkness within was too thick for her to see through, and the light of her torch could only go so far. He nudged Rarity none to gently toward it and jabbed at its direction in emphasis.

Rarity glared are the yak. “First, I must say that I really don’t appreciate how you keep interrupting me like that. It’s rude and, ah! Excuse me!”

The yak had given her another nudge towards the side hallway and made another gesture at it.

“As I said, rude,” Rarity said with a sniff that ended in a cough as her nostrils were assaulted by the putrid air. “In any case,” she continued once she recovered, “I’ll have you know that I have absolutely no intentions of exploring this disgusting place any further. You are welcome to play around in the muck all you want, but I want no part in it. I am heading back upstairs to get another bath.” She sniffed at herself and grimaced. “Or five or six baths or as many as it takes.”

The yak‘s head tilted to the side as he regarded at Rarity with a look of bemusement. Then, with a snort, he pushed her forward, forcing her through the water and ignoring her protests until they were both at the hall’s entrance.

“Oh! How dare you!” Rarity exclaimed, her hooves clattering against solid, paved ground. “You, you brute! I will not be treated this manner. Do you hear me?”

The yak answered with another push, and when Rarity turned around to face him, she discovered her path back into the wet chamber and to the stairway was being blocked. The yak’s hulking body stood squarely in the way, and the stern and stony look on his face suggested to Rarity that asking him to move would’ve been a pointless endeavor. He heaved his weapon up over his head before pointing the great blades down the hallway.

“Yak,” the yak said, his tone full of impatience and frustration. He gestured again with his axe, and Rarity hid her nervous swallow with an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh very well then,” she griped, tossing her wet mane over her shoulder as she stepped forward. “I suppose the sooner we finish exploring here, the sooner you’ll let me leave.”

“Yak,” the yak said with a nod, and he too took a step. Slowly, they made their way through the dark hallway, with the torch in Rarity’s hoof lighting the way.

The taps of their hard hooves against the stone floor rang out loudly and echoed through the entire passage. As they continued onward, they were greeted by the noisy squeaks of rats who immediately ran off and hid in little holes in the walls when revealed by the light of the torch.

“Ugh,” Rarity muttered at the sight of a particularly fat rodent that had been brave enough to stand in the light and stare back at them for an entire second before scampering off. “How unsanitary.”

The yak grunted and pressed a hoof to his lips. Rarity rolled her eyes at the call for silence. She couldn’t imagine there being any other creatures down here in these conditions besides them two and the rats, and if for whatever reason there were others with them, the sounds of their hoofsteps, especially those of the heavier yak, would have long since alerted them of Rarity and the yak’s intrusion. Still, Rarity kept her thoughts to herself and made no further commentary even when the yak suddenly slowed them to a snail’s pace. Every couple of steps or so he would forced them to stop so that he could tap the shaft of his axe along floor and walls.

As they continued through the hall, Rarity caught the scent of something a little like rotten eggs. It was sulfuric but with something lighter and subtler mixed in that slightly diluted the smell. The yak must have noticed the odor as well because he paused for a short moment to growl and rubbed at his nose. At first, Rarity considered the possibility of the smell coming from the yak or, more reluctantly, herself now that much of the water they had both fallen into had dried into their fur, but a couple of quick whiffs suggested otherwise. This scent was different though for whatever reason it wasn’t completely foreign to Rarity. There was something about the smell that was familiar to her, but where and when she recognized it from was, however, something Rarity couldn’t quite place her hoof on.

The smell grew strong as they got closer to the end of the tunnel, and Rarity could spot a faint glow coming from the exit, though its source was still hidden in shadow. Had she been wrong about this place being deserted, Rarity wondered with a frown. Well, there had to have been some sapient creature around to put all those torches along the stairway including one Rarity now held, perhaps they had set some lights up over there as well. But for what purpose, and why was such a damp, dark, and disgusting place under a bathhouse anyways? She had been too distracted with the yak and the unicorn falling down the stairs to have given it much consideration, but now that she had an opportunity to think about it, having the entrance behind a false wall when a simple door and an ‘Employee’s Only’ sign would’ve done was oddly excessive, maybe even suspicious.

From what little Gustford knew and had told her, whole establishment seemed shrouded in mystery, and as Rarity approached the end of the hall her discomfort grew. Any excitement she might have felt over unraveling some conspiracy like the protagonist from her favorite detective novels was chilled away by the cold atmosphere of her current environment and an increasing dread.

“Maybe—“ Rarity began, only to immediate shut and cover her mouth as her voice was amplified by the walls around them. “Maybe we should turn back,” she tried again, dropping her volume to the lowest of whispers. She turned to the yak blocking her retreat. “Whatever the owners of this place have down here is really none of our business, and I can’t imagine they would appreciate us encroaching like this.”

The yak just shook his head and pointed her forward. Rarity let out a silent sigh and turned right back around. Well, she had already gotten this far, the hall’s exit only a few steps away, might as well find out what they were trying so hard to hide.

The glow grew brighter. The strangely familiar stench became more noticeable. It took mere moments for Rarity to finally reach the end of the hall and step onto the edge of a large open chamber with a dome ceiling. Much of floor had been flooded with that disgusting, contaminated water save for a narrow path that led from their hall to a raised platform in the center of the room, like a little island in a sea of sludge with a bridge connecting it to the mainland. Great flames spewed from large torches attached to columns in each corner, illuminating the entire room along with a bowl of fire that hung from the ceiling over the dry stage by a number of chains. Each of the three walls before Rarity and the yak opened into a massive passage the size of a train tunnel, two of which were blocked off by large rusty gates. The remains of a third gate could be spotted sticking out of the muck near the only unsealed passage which stood directly in front of them.

The flame of her torch flared as Rarity entered the chamber where the smell became almost unbearable. The odor came from the black goo below, that became clear once Rarity’s nose had gotten right above the rancid liquid, and at this realization, Rarity was suddenly brought to Sweet Apple Acres, during a particularly messy situation involving Applejack’s bovine boarders and some foreign grass from Zecora’s homeland that didn’t exactly sit well with their stomachs. Oh, that had not been a fun weekend for them, and Rarity still felt that Applejack hadn’t been entirely honest when the farmer asked for her and the rest of their friends to help clean. Only dear Twilight Sparkle showed any bit of enthusiasm for the task, and that was because it gave her the rare opportunity to discuss the magic behind the digestive system of ruminants and some article she had read recently about intuitive cattle ranchers capturing the combustible gases their guests would produce, at least until those very gases became too much for even her love of lecturing.

As if Rarity didn’t already have enough reasons to avoid the filth covering the floor. She lifted her torch a little higher as she unwillingly recalled all the immature jokes about flammable farts Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie’s had made that day, but that was all the concern she could spare in that direction, what with the majority of her attention going to the four figures standing on the center platform, crowded around a large altar made of stone. All four were equine in shape, but the rest of their appearance was hidden beneath black cloaks and hoods and silver masks with draconian features. They all had both a curved sword and a dagger strapped to their sides, and one of them also carried a disembodied horn similar to the ones the yak behind her had growing out of his head.

“You’re early,” one of the masked figures, the one leaning lazily against the stone table, said. Their voice was distorted by the mask. “Our shift doesn’t end for another hour. Not that I’m complaining or nothing.”

“Wait a tick,” another one began as they actually took the time to turn and look. “They’re not—“

Rarity felt something fly over her shoulder. A moment later one of the figures was flung off the platform and landed with a loud splash, struck by the giant axe that suddenly appeared and now clattered against the altar. A mighty roar coming from behind Rarity soon followed, and she was knocked forward and nearly fell down into the muck as well as the yak charged past her and down the path toward the remaining creatures in cloaks.

“Intruders!” one screamed. They pointed to the figure with the horn as they grabbed at their scimitar. “Sound the alarm! We’re under—“

Their mask crumpled against the yak’s hoof, shutting the creature up and sending them to the ground. In that time their ally had drawn their blade, but the yak ducked under their swing as he grabbed hold of his thrown axe. He reared up onto his hind legs, and with the axe held in his front ones, he slammed one of the heads into the attacker’s head, cutting their scream short as they collapsed. There was another sword swing, this time by the one the yak had punched in the face. A chunk of the mask had been broken off, and beneath it was an expression of anger and hate as they struck at the yak’s flank, leaving behind a red mark.

The yak growled, his face contorted by flaring nostrils, bared teeth, and a seething glare. He swung his own weapon in response, but the pony leaped back and dodged the axe as a deafening, beastly roar filled the room and echoed through the tunnels. Both Rarity and the yak turned to the source of the sound and saw that the creature with the horn had brought its tip to their lips and was blowing into it. The yak raised his axe toward the trumpeter, turning his back to the other pony who took the opportunity to take another swing and leave another gash. The yak brushed off the blow he ran forward to silence the horn’s blast, but he found the black, wet mess that had suddenly thrown itself out of the water and onto his broad shoulders much harder to ignore.

The pony the yak had opened hostilities with now had him grappled, and if the sudden extra weight hadn’t already halted his progress toward the pony sounding the alarm, their attempts to stab at his neck certainly would most definitely have caused the yak to shift priorities. He dropped his axe, freeing his forelimbs to knock the dagger out of the pony’s grasp before it could sink into him, then leaped and slammed his front hooves down in a powerful stomp. The hindrance’s grip around the yak loosened, and with a roar of rage he tossed them off and away. Rarity was forced to dive down to the floor as they soared over her head and crash onto the hard walkway behind her, and she winced and her ears flattened against her head at the painful sounding crunch that came with the landing. They skid across the length of stone path and stopped only once they had reached the border separating the chamber and the hall Rarity and the yak had entered through.

To Rarity’s amazement, the body that was now between her and the exit slowly got back onto its feet. The pony’s legs shook and knocked together, and their chest heaved with each labored gasp that was barely audible even once the cry of the horn had been silenced. They took hold of their mask and flung it off, revealing the badly bruised and swollen face of a gray maned stallion as he panted and coughed.

The stallion drew his sword and stumbled forward even as he struggled to catch his breath. Past all the bruises and swelling there was a look of uncertainty on his face as he stared past Rarity and assessed the battle behind her. That expression changed from one of apprehension to one of surprise however once his unsteady gaze settled onto the mare standing right in his path. Then, surprise turned to anger.

Rarity took a step back as the stallion stepped forward with his sword waved at her, the curved blade as wicked as his sudden, disturbing grin. She raised up her hooves in surrender. “I assure you, I’m not with him. This has all just been a huge misunderstanding. Please, there’s no need to be—“

The stallion screamed and broke into a full gallop with his sword raised and readied. Rarity grimaced and bent down into a crouch as she ran through her limited options. The walkway was too narrow to maneuver around the crazed pony rushing toward her, and the ongoing combat behind Rarity kept her from continuing backwards. That meant she would have to either deal with the attack head-on by blocking the blade with her torch or striking her assailant first, neither of which Rarity had much confidence in achieving, or avoid the attack altogether by leaping to side and into the muck. The latter was the safer option for sure, but to Rarity, jumping into that swamp of sewage was hardly any better than deliberately putting herself in the path of the stallion’s sword.

Said sword was rapidly closing in. Rarity needed to decide fast. She took a deep breath and readied herself to act when the moment was right. Not yet she told herself, squashing down the rising panic that threatened to overtake her. Not y—

Something grabbed Rarity by her shoulder, and before she could react, she was pulled back and away from the charging stallion. Rarity dropped to the ground beside the altar in the middle of the platform and glanced up in time to watch the yak knock the stallion’s curved blade away before bringing his axe down against the stallion’s side. The blow sent the cloaked pony back into the water, and after the initial impact and a few ripples, the muck stilled with no sign of the stallion resurfacing. In fact, the whole room was still and silent with the exception being some heavy breathing by the yak. The bodies of the other cloaked ponies floated face down in the fetid waters, motionless.

The victorious yak limped forward to Rarity and the stone altar, using his axe a crutch. The battle had clearly taken its toll on him, with cuts running along his body visible even through the yak’s thick and unkempt fur. Despite everything the brutish creature had put her through, making her trek through this dirty place and forcing them into that fight, Rarity still rushed over to check up on him. He had just saved her after all, even if it was his fault that she had been in that situation to begin with. Admittedly, there wasn’t much she could do for him, what with her lack of medical supplies and expertise, and Rarity doubted she had the strength to hold the larger creature up and help move him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked, but the yak waved her away and reached into his bag. He pull out a small vial of red liquid, and just like with the feline in the alley, the yak’s wounds started to heal once he had drunk the vial’s contents, with a number of the red lines fading or even vanishing completely. Several marks still remained however, and he still walked with a noticeable limp.

Rarity saw him staring down the one open tunnel before them and frowned. “I believe we’ve done enough exploring for today,” she said. “We wouldn’t want to get anything in those open cuts now, especially not whatever’s in that water. Let’s turn back before you get infected by something.”

The yak grunted and shook his head. He first pointed at his ear, then gestured toward the open tunnel. Rarity pressed her lips together tightly and held back her annoyed sigh as she turned her ears in that direction. At first she heard nothing, but after a few moments she caught the sound of hooves splashing through water. Several hooves and they were quickly growing louder, closer, and with them came chanting that resonated along the tunnel’s walls. The creaks and groans of old metals rubbing against each other and the clicking of chain links suddenly filled the chamber as the gates of the side passages slowly rose out of the mire, and soon movement and warlike chanting and even the beating of drums could be heard coming from those tunnels as well.

Comments

[TheMessenger]

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Thanks for the catch.