• Published 1st Dec 2012
  • 2,698 Views, 55 Comments

Planescape: Equestria - Applechaser



A hardened planewalker finds sanctuary in Equestria, but will his troubles follow him there?

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Ponies do Sigil

The moment you enter the inn, the hairs on the back of your neck prick up. Something’s off. You don’t get to be two thousand, three hundred and seventeen years old (but who’s counting?) without developing some good instincts. You cast an eye over the crowded bar, but nothing seems out of place. High class whores, scheming Fiends, Faction politicians, information brokers, assassins – standard clientele for the Fortune’s Wheel on any given day a few hours before anti-peak.

In one corner four squat, winged, hateful little Imps perch on stools around a tall table. They’re playing dice for small change and drinking hard from a bottle of amber firewine that stands mostly empty between them. One of them recognises you and gives you a surly nod. You return it – Tra’sheek is a useful guy to be on the right side of, just don’t ever trust him with anything shiny or sharp - and return to scanning the crowd for threats.

At a table in the centre of the room the jackal-headed Arcanoloth Shemeska holds court, selling secrets and influence, spinning webs, pulling strings. The self-proclaimed King of the Crosstrade. She wears a tight, sheer evening dress that shows off her hairy, plump figure to hideous effect. Her coarse mane is primped and permed, festooned with brightly coloured silk ribbons, and her talons flash with the gold and jewels of their many rings as she lifts a glass of wine to her muzzle. Sitting across from her is a harassed-looking man, her client or victim or would-be co-conspirator. He fidgets awkwardly, unsure where to look as he stammers out his business. Half a dozen leather-clad Tiefling pretty boys flank the Arcanoloth, ignoring her hapless client, their hard eyes scanning the crowd for any threat or perceived slight on their mistress, for any excuse to get their knives out and have some fun.

Not exactly a pleasant bunch, but no particular danger to you, and nothing out of the ordinary.

Leaning indolently against the bar, a redheaded whore – or she might be a tout, or she might be both – catches your eye with a sultry smile and a flirtatious flutter of the diaphanous wings that sprout from her back. You rather think you know her from somewhere. Another time, it might be nice to pursue that acquaintance – but not right now. Right now, you just want to know what it is that has you looking over your shoulder, antsier than an Aasimar in Avernus.

In another corner there are six – no, make that seven – creatures you don’t recognise. Six small vari-coloured equine figures, two of them winged, two of them horned, and a purple reptile of some description, something like a very young dragon, but much too… well, adorable. Actually, they’re all adorable. Adorable is not a trait that tends to have a long shelf life in Sigil.

Except for one of the horse creatures who seems to be trying to hide behind her own pink mane, all the others are looking around them with greater or lesser degrees of wide eyed fascination and wonder. The kind of fascination and wonder that acts much as a sign around your neck reading ‘clueless’. You briefly wonder how long they’ve been in Sigil so far without being robbed, raped and/or murdered, and how long they’ll stay that way.

Oh well, not your problem.

Normally you might be inclined to go and make conversation for curiosity’s sake. You’ve been around the Great Ring once or twice, and it’s not every day now that you come across a race of sentient beings that you’ve never met or even heard of. Today, though, you have other things on your mind, and that bunch can’t possibly be responsible for the prickly feeling at the back of your neck, that feeling that says that trouble is bearing down on you like the Lady’s shadow.

Probably better not to think about the Lady’s shadow, or any other part of her either. You’ve had your history, the two of you, and it’s only pretty recently that you’ve dared to show your face in her city again. Considering what you have in your pocket right now, you might not be welcome here much longer, and it’d be good to skip town before she chucks you out. When the Lady of Pain chucks you out, you stay chucked.

Anyway, there’s no sign of trouble, your paranoia notwithstanding. Best to stay cautious, but you may as well get a drink while you wait for your contact to show up. Here’s hoping that Corder doesn’t take too long. The quicker you can hand this stuff off and get on your way, the happier you’ll be. You get a mug of Ysgardian ale and find a free table to nurse it. You’re not far from the colourful horse creatures, and from here you can keep half an eye on them while you drink. The pink one seems to be trying to make friends with her closest neighbour.

“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie, what’s your name?”

She certainly is enthusiastic. Unfortunately for her, her closest neighbour is a Bladeling, and he exhibits all the social graces his kind are usually noted for.

“Pike off,” he growls in a voice that sounds like it’s foreplay to a brutal stabbing.

“That’s a funny name! I’m going to call you Pikey. That’s okay, right? You can call me Pinkie, all my friends do, and I know we’re going to be gooooood friends. Or you can call me Pie if you want, nobody calls me that but I wouldn’t mind if they did, I mean, it might be kind of a nice name, but it could be confusing, because I’m a baker, so what if they wanted me to bake them a pie and they were all like HELLO PIE COULD YOU BAKE ME A PIE and I’d be like NO SILLY I’M NOT GOING TO BAKE MYSELF and I mean actually hey that would be funny, can you call me Pie, would you mind?”

The bladeling just stares.

After a moment Pinkie resumes her torrent of friendliness, seeming pretty much undeterred by the Stygian levels of cold shoulder she’s getting for her efforts.

“Okay great! So hey listen Pikey, I hope you don’t mind me asking, I’m sure you won’t since we’re such GOOD friends, but what in the hay are you? I’ve never seen anything like you! You look like you’re made out of metal and you’ve got all those crazy spikes sticking out of you, do they hurt or what? Are you actually made out of metal? Don’t get me wrong or anything, it’s totally amazing! I bet if somepony hit you in the head it would just be all like GONNGGGG and you wouldn’t even feel it, am I right?”

Pinkie has already hopped up onto the bladeling’s table and is now raising a hoof above his head as if to test her theory, but somewhat to your relief she is swiftly grabbed away by one of her companions.

“Sir, I’m so VERY sorry for my friend’s behaviour,” the white unicorn says in an accent that, somewhere, must be awfully cultured, but in Sigil sounds kind of quaintly old-fashioned. “I simply don’t know WHAT she was thinking.” She directs a glare at Pinkie, who looks completely unchastened. “I’ll leave you alone to drink in peace now, after all, we’re just here to have a QUIET DRINK” – this with another glare at Pinkie – “and NOT cause any COMMOTION.”

Pinkie Pie looks sulky for a moment, her muzzle scrunching up adorably.

“But Rarity, that’s so boooooring,” she pouts. “Just LOOK at this place. There are so many exciting things to see, so many new friends to make! I didn’t even know any place like this existed! I’m sure the Princess didn’t send us off to an amazing place like this and expect us to just deliver this message or whatever and come straight back. She won’t mind if we have some fun while we’re here, right Twilight?”

This question is directed at her purple unicorn friend, who rolls her eyes.

“Pinkie, that’s EXACTLY what the Princess expects. Like I told you before, she was VERY clear, we’re just supposed to find this person, then he and Princess Celestia will send some messages back and forth through Spike, and then we come straight back. She said this place could be dangerous for ponies like us, and that we have to be SUPER careful not to cause any trouble.”

Her tones softens a little as she sees how downhearted the pink pony looks.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie. I know this is hard, I mean, I wish we could look around too. I’ve never even read about most of the species in this room, and it would be SO incredible to speak with some of them and find out about their people’s cultures and history, and don’t even get me STARTED on the implications of this place for planar geography. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve detected portals leading off from this place to more than two dozen separate planes of existence. Do you understand what that means? Our whole world might just be one of fifty, or a hundred, or a THOUSAND parallel universes where everything is different. Each one a whole separate… a whole separate INFINITY, with its own cosmology and philosophy and maybe even the laws of science and magic could be different, I mean, my magic already seems to act differently here in this place, so who knows what sort of magic might exist on another plane? And there are people from all these different worlds right in this very room, and if I could just talk to them then-“

Pinkie interrupts with a giant yawn.

“Okay, you’re right Twilight, it sounds really boring after all. I guess we should just get it over with and get home,” Pinkie says happily.

Twilight looks nonplussed.

“That’s raght, sugarcube,” puts in the orange pony in a broad accent, upending her mug. “We got a job ta do, an’ ah reck’n we’re gonna do it raght. In the meantahm, though, since there’s no sahn of this Anonymous fella, ah might just have another o’ these… what was it now… Bah-topian ciders. Jus’ about the best darn apple cider ah ever tasted, ‘sides from Sweet Apple Acres’ very own, o’ course.”

Anonymous? Did you hear that right? These… ponies… are looking for you?

“Ooooh Applejack, would you mind terribly getting me another glass of this maaarvelous Elysian honeywine while you’re going?” the white unicorn – Rarity, was it? – calls after her.

“Oh, and, um, if it’s okay, could I have one of those too, I mean, if you wouldn’t mind?” the yellow winged pony speaks out in hushed tones, peeking out from behind her veil of pink mane.

“And another of these Ysgardian ales for me!” the other pegasus calls, cyan blue with a multicoloured mane. “This stuff is AWESOME.”

“Legion… what now? Is guard… huh? I ain’t ever gonna remember that, y’all had better just come up ta the bar with me.”

“Got you covered, AJ.”

The blue pegasus gives a hop over the table, aided by a quick flap of her wings, and lands adroitly next to her friend.

“I’ll come too,” Twilight puts in. “I’d like another look at all these exotic vintages, I want to try to remember some of these place names and look them up…”

The three ponies brush past your chair on their way to the bar, the orange one, Applejack, proffering a friendly ‘scuse me, mister,’ as she leads the way. You’re too busy thinking about what she just said to even notice. They’re looking for you?
You can’t even imagine what they could possibly want with you, but for now you decide to keep your cards close to your chest. Anyway, whatever it is, you want to get this business with Corder out of the way first. Speaking of which, that berk should be here by now. You don’t like the thought that something might be keeping him.

This wait is doing nothing for your frayed nerves.

The ponies seem to take an awfully long time to get served at the bar, but when they finally come back, drinks clasped in their hooves (how do they do that? Who knows, but the planes hold many mysteries), you’re still at the table next to them, waiting for your tardy contact Corder to show his face.The purple lizard-thing is riding on the back of the purple unicorn pony, Twilight, and complaining volubly.

“But Twiiiiliiiight, why can’t I have the same cider Applejack’s having?”

“It’s hard cider, Spike. You’re a BABY dragon. Princess Celestia would never let me hear the end of it.”

Your eyebrows rise just a little at the description of him as a dragon. You’ve never seen a dragon as cute and chubby as that one before. Then again, you’ve never seen such colourful, huggable ponies, either.

“But we don’t have to tell her! Just a sip…”

“I said no, Spike. The discussion is over.”

“But Twiiiliiiight, you’re gonna make me look bad in front of Rarity…”

Drinks are set down on the table and there are several “thank you”s and one loud, whining “but Twiiiiliiiiight…”

“Still no sign of this Anonymous gentleman, girls?” Rarity asks. “No news of him at the bar?”

“Nope,” Applejack replies. “That barman was downraght unhelpful about it, too. Said that if’n Anonymous wanted ta be found, he reckoned he would be.”

You give a smile. You’ll have to remember to tip extra for your next drink. Discretion is an admirable quality in a barman.

“So what’s our next move?” the blue pegasus pony asks impatiently. “We can’t just sit around here drinking all night.”

“Well…” says Twilight, “Princess Celestia said that this would be the most likely place to find him. But she also said that if we were having trouble, the Elements of Harmony would lead us to him. The thing is, I don’t know if it’s such a great idea to put them on here. I mean, they’re kind of… shiny.”

“So?” Pinkie Pie interrupts. “Shiny is good! Just look at ol’ Dog-Head McJewelFingers over there! It must be the fashion around here or something.”

She’s pointing a hoof at Shemeska. The Arcanoloth’s ear twitches, nearly imperceptibly.

“Oh, please,” Rarity puts in. “Do NOT mention ‘fashion’ and that… person over there in the same breath. I can assure you that whatever she is doing with that attire, it is NOT fashion.”

You stifle a laugh, wincing at the same time in the knowledge that there’s no possible way that Shemeska didn’t overhear that. It’d take a lot more than just the ambient noise of this crowded bar to stop Shemeska from catching a slight on her dress sense. These ponies might just have unwittingly called down the worst possible kind of attention on themselves.

“Anyway,” Twilight says, attempting to wrestle the discussion back on track, “my point was, there are a lot of strange people around here, and some of them could be dangerous. There could even be… thieves.”

She says the word in a low hiss, like she’s dropping a real bomb. Judging by the grave silence that falls over the ponies – even Pinkie Pie – they are appropriately shocked.

“So,” Twilight goes on, “it could be risky to go around with the Elements of Harmony on display. If anything happened to them… can you imagine? We’d have failed all of Equestria. Princess Celestia would banish us.”

“You mean throw us in a dungeon,” Spike puts in.

“Banish us, and throw us in a dungeon in the place that we’re banished to,” all the other ponies add at once, breaking out in giggles.

So adorable...

Meanwhile, where the fuck is Corder?

Across the room you see the hairy bulk of Shemeska rising from her chair, her tight silk gown bulging in all the wrong places. She turns in your direction, a predatory grin coming to her jaws. You have a sinking feeling. She's coming over, swaying her misshapen hips seductively. Her entourage of tiefling rentboys follows behind like her vicious, gay, knife-wielding shadow. She stops in front of the ponies’ table.

“Good evening, my little horses.” Her voice is soft and dulcet, genuinely sexy. It only makes the overall impression of her presence more unsettling.

“Silly! We’re ponies, not horses.”

Pinkie Pie doesn’t sound very unsettled.

“Ponies, then,” Shemeska corrects herself, unruffled. “I’d like to join you for a drink, I think I’m going to find you amusing.”

“Um… actually…” Twilight begins to make excuses, but Shemeska doesn’t even seem to hear as she motions for one of her bodyguards to pull up a chair for her.

With an inward groan, you rise to your feet.

“Actually, Marauder, these ponies have business with me.”

The Arcanoloth turns slowly to regard you, her canine eyes slitted and burning with barely-contained rage.

“Anonymous? Do you really wish to make a nuisance of yourself?”

You’re suddenly conscious of six eager sets of pony eyes looking at you in surprise.

“My deepest regrets, Shemeska. I mean no offense-"

“THE FUCK YOU DON’T!” the fiend screams. In a blink of an eye she closes the gap between you, close enough for you to smell raw meat on her breath as she sprays spittle in your face. You look past her, keeping focused on the six tiefling boys who are moving around your flanks with their knives out.

“You worm,” she spits. “You know better than to cross me. I always knew you were a short-sighted, trivial, pointless little insect, but I thought at least you had some fucking basic sort of self-preservation instinct. Have you lost your wits?”

You clear your throat and compose your dignity for a moment before answering. It’s not that easy to compose your dignity while an ancient Fiend with enough arcane power to blow up most of a good-sized country is growling in your face and her six pet assassins are circling around you like vultures waiting for a kill - but you do a serviceable job.

“Not trying to cross you, Shemmie-" her scowl intensifies, and you blithely carry on – “but like I said, I’ve got business with these ponies. You’ve got a message for me, right ladies?”

There are mute nods from the ponies’ table.

“…and then they’re engaged to carry my reply, personally, back to their goddess. They’re Proxies, Shemeska.”

The Arcanoloth takes a step back from you and looks at the ponies, then back at you, then back at the ponies. Pinkie Pie is wearing a different and more ridiculous hat each time Shemeska looks round. The fiend spits on the floor and spins on her heel. Her voice is back to a soft purr when she speaks again, and her entourage is already filing after her, knives back up their sleeves.

“Oh very well, I’ll leave you to it.” She turns back around and gives you a disturbing wink. “Charming to talk to you again though, Anonymous. We’ll have to catch up soon.”

You shudder, and she carries on out of the door. Best not to think about what just happened.

“Anonymous!” Pinkie Pie is bouncing happily in a circle around you. “Anonymous, Anonymous, I found Anonymous!”

“Um… thanks, I think,” Twilight says, approaching more cautiously. “But what was that stuff about us being proxies?”

“Well, aren’t you?” you ask with a shrug.

“I guess? We’re here on Princess Celestia’s instructions, so I suppose that makes us her proxies. But it seemed like you meant something more than that.”

>You focus on not rolling your eyes. Damn clueless.

“A Proxy is the agent of a Power on the planes.”

Twilight looks blank.

“A god – a Proxy is the chosen servant of a god.”

“Oh.” Twilight blushes. “But, that’s not quite right. Princess Celestia isn’t a god.”

You shrug.

“I won’t tell Shemeska if you don’t.”

The other ponies crowd around, and soon you’ve taken a seat at their table and they’ve all introduced themselves – although you’d picked up their names already, all except for the two pegasus ponies who it turns out are Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Even their names are adorable. Just what kind of plane are they from?

Of course, you’re hardly one to talk about funny-sounding names. Sure enough, they’ve obviously been wondering.

“If it’s not too awfully presumptuous of me to ask-" it’s Rarity who comes out with the question – “is that your real name? Anonymous? I mean, it can’t possibly be, can it?”

You shake your head.

“Nope. Real names are tricky things. I got rid of mine a long time ago.”

“Got rid of it?”

“Right. A name’s like a handle somebody can use to get a hold of you, a way to pin you down. Figured I’d be better off without one.”

“Hmm.” The unicorn seems to be thinking that over.

“Anyway, sorry to be all business, but I’m waiting for an associate of mine and when he shows up I might have to dash, so maybe you’d better give me this message of yours.”

“Right!” Twilight says. “Just one moment please. Spike, take a note.”

“Fine...”

>The miniature dragon still seems a bit sulky over the cider debacle, but he produces a sheet of paper and a quill pen from somewhere and begins scribing busily as Twilight dictates.

”Dear Princess Celestia,

We are all safe and well. Sigil is amazing! We have found Anonymous, and he is sitting here with us. You can send your message now and we will deliver it straight to his hooves hands.

Your faithful student, Twilight Sparkle”.

You watch as the note is rolled up, sealed, and then incinerated by the baby dragon’s breath. Apparently this is what is supposed to happen, since nobody looks surprised. Everybody watches Spike expectantly while he fidgets nervously under all the attention.

“Gee, you guys, I’m sure Princess Celestia will take a few minutes to write her rep-”

He stops mid-sentence, holding his stomach.

“…I guess it was just indigestion. Like I said, I’m sure it will be a few HURP-"

Spike gives a fiery belch and another letter materialises from the smoke and flame.

“Here, it’s for you.”

You take the letter. All the ponies are looking at you expectantly as you open it up, and you have to admit you’re pretty curious.

Dear Anonymous,

You have my deepest thanks for the assistance you provided to my little ponies in their run-in with Shemeska the Marauder. I regret to inform you that your friend Corder has had a run-in of his own with a much more dangerous Lady than even Shemeska. If you will pardon the familiarity, I heartily advise you to leave Sigil as soon as possible. If you would care to accompany my faithful student and her friends back to Equestria, I will be delighted to thank you in person and perhaps shed some light on those curious marbles in your pocket and the whereabouts of your unfortunate friend.
Yours, with sincere affection,

Princess Celestia of Equestria.

Well shit.

You’re still working on processing Princess Celestia’s message when Twilight’s bright, enquiring voice cuts through your reverie.

“So… do you want to reply?”

Judging by the look of suppressed eagerness on her face and the way her ears are twitching, she’s working really hard at not asking any nosy questions about what was in the message. Her effort at politeness is somewhat compromised by the way that Pinkie Pie is bouncing up and down, trying to get a look at the letter in your hand.

“So what was in the letter Anony? Was it exciting? Was it a love letter? Can I see it? Huh? Huh?”

You hold the letter out and she takes it between her teeth in mid bounce with a muffled squeak of excitement.

“No need to reply,” you tell Twilight, who looks a bit shocked that you just gave the letter to Pinkie. “It’s an invitation to accompany you back to Equestria.”

“Oh!” Twilight blinks. “And… will you accept?”

“I wonder.”

You lean back in your chair and gaze up at the ceiling for a moment, then back down to meet the gaze of the six brightly coloured ponies, and one pet dragon, who are all looking expectantly at you. You exhale slowly. After all, what choice do you have? You’re out of options, out of rope, out of friends. And after all, this Equestria place is probably a pleasant enough plane to keep a low profile for a while. Just look at these cute fucking ponies, it’s obviously impossible that their homeland isn’t a nice place.

“Yeah, I reckon I will.”

“Oh, gosh!” Pinkie Pie squeals, resuming her bouncing at redoubled velocity. "You’re coming to Equestria? That’s so absolutely super amazing! We’ve never had anyp0ny, I mean, anyONE like you in Equestria before! We’ll have to have a super-duper-looper HUGE ‘welcome to Equestria’ party! And we’ll have to show you all the sights, and you’ll have to try all our local food like CAKES-"

“An’ apples!” Applejack puts in. “Apple pie, apple fritters, apple tarts, apple muffins, stewed apples, baked apples, apple turnovers, apple jelly, apple dumplings, an’ my brand new special apple surprise!”

“And we simply must compare notes on fashion,” Rarity takes up as soon as Applejack finishes. “Your people have such fascinating ideas, I simply adore the fine stitching on your jacket sleeves there. And the shoes! So many different kinds of shoes, I’d never imagined! I mean we have shoes in Equestria, of course we do, but only as accessories - and I suppose that when you need to wear shoes just to walk around outside without hurting your hooves, I mean your feet, you have a lot more incentive to think about different ways of making them fabulous…”

“Not just fashion!” Twilight says with a dismissive tone that earns her a dirty look from Rarity. “It will be an amazing chance to learn all kinds of things about human culture and history and magic and, and everything! This is incredible, I’m going to need to clear my schedule and focus on this for as long as we have you – um, I mean, for as long as you decide to stay,” she finishes with a meek blush.

“Pfffyeah right,” Rainbow Dash says. “'Cuz Anonymous is really gonna want to sit around in some musty library all day every day talking ancient history while you use up Equestria’s ink supply taking notes. Come on! Anon, if she lets you out in the sunshine once in a while then come find me and I guess we can hang out. If you’re lucky, the Wonderbolts will do a show while you’re in Equestria. Now THAT’S something worth seeing.”

Everybody seems to have said their piece. Wait, weren’t there six ponies?

Everypony’s looking at Fluttershy, who is nervously scratching at her chair with the tip of one hoof and not meeting anyone’s eye. She looks up for a moment and then swiftly back down, blushing.

”Um… I guess… if Anonymous likes animals, maybe I could introduce him to some of Equestria’s fauna? Maybe. I mean, if he wants…”

You grin.

“Okay, but you’re all going to need to wait until your princess is finished with me. So where’s the portal to Equestria?”

“It’s between the hooves of that giant pony statue in the Clerk’s Ward.”

“Giant… pony statue? Oh. Oh, right, THAT giant pony statue. It’s not really a pony, it’s a Nic’Epona. More like a horse than a pony. An intelligent, magical horse.”

The ponies all regard you a bit strangely.

“That… sounds like a pony,” Twilight says in a flat tone.

“… now that you mention it. My apologies. Well, that’s a ways from here, but I know a portal that can get us there pretty sharpish. Shall we be off? If you ladies have finished your drinks.”

You settle your tab, and soon you’re all on your way through the streets of the Lady’s Ward. As distracted as you are by the sudden turn that events have taken, you still take note of the bladeling who was sitting by – the one that Pinkie christened Pikey – as he slips from his seat and makes for the doorway not far behind you. Could mean trouble. But, hells, you’re planning on getting straight out of the city anyway. Chances are that whatever that basher has planned, you’ll be gone before it happens.

It’s late, but there are still plenty of people out and about. Sigil doesn’t sleep. The Lady’s Ward is the fanciest and most expensive district of Sigil, so most of the passers-by are the upper crust, fashionable and well-to-do. Rarity can hardly contain her glee at all the extravagant and exotic fashions parading by, and all the other ponies seem almost as excited by the strange surroundings. All except Fluttershy, who looks terrified – but you’re working on the assumption that’s probably normal. Spike is slumped forward on Twilight’s neck, snoozing peacefully.

You point out various points of interest along the way, sometimes dropping in a funny anecdote or a story from the city’s history. It’s nice to have somebody – or somepony – to show around. Their sense of wonder is kind of infectious, even for a jaded asshole like yourself. You bring them to a halt in front of the archway of iron fretwork that leads into a small park. A great bushy green shrub is growing up and through the railings, erupting with fragrant blue flowers the size of your palm. For the first time, Fluttershy seems to be drawn out of herself.

“Oh my goodness, look at these flowers! They’re just beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like this plant in Equestria. Do you think it would be all right if I took some seeds for my garden? Would anyone mind?”

You shake your head with an indulgent smile.

“I’m sure it’d be fine. Also, you’re going to need one of these.”

You produce a knife from one of your boots (you can never have too many knives) and cut one of the blooms from its stem. You kneel down and, with an exaggerated romantic gesture, brush the mane back from one of Fluttershy’s ears and slip the flower’s stem behind her ear, ensuring that it’s secure before pulling back to admire your handiwork. Fluttershy looks adorable, particularly because she’s blushing madly.

“Oh hey, don’t get the wrong idea, I’m not being gallant or anything,” you say with a big grin. “Everybody needs one to get through the portal to where we’re going.”

You cut more flowers, handing one to each of the remaining ponies and keeping one for yourself. Most of the ponies are content to just take the flower and hold it in their teeth but Rarity makes a point of inclining her head to you with a coy smile, obviously demanding the same treatment as Fluttershy. You oblige like a gentleman. The pale blue of the flower matches her eyes and the mark on her flank – it looks very pretty, a fact which clearly isn't lost on her as she smiles her thanks at you and bats her eyelashes.

Spike is still asleep, snoring softly, so you prop his flower up in his open mouth. It lolls about a bit but stays upright and doesn’t seem in danger of slipping down his throat, so you call it a job well done. Twilight is watching you over her shoulder with an expression somewhere between amusement and bafflement.

“All set?” You do a check and see that everypony has their flower. “Lovely. Follow me then.”

You stride through the archway that leads into the park, and as you approach it your flower starts to glow with a soft luminescence that is answered by a shimmering in the air of the archway. As you step through the archway the shimmering briefly flares into a swirling vortex of light. When you can see again, you’re in a whole different street on the other side of the city, and your flower is gone. The ponies all appear after you, one after another. Spike is still on Twilight’s back, now flowerless. He slept through the whole thing. Fluttershy looks a bit disappointed by the loss of her flower, but she cheers up when you hand her some seed pods that you took while you were gathering the blossoms.

“So, there’s where we’re headed,” you say, pointing to where the head of a giant horse – or pony – rears high over the surrounding buildings, visible from where you stand although you’re still a few blocks away.

“Yep,” Twilight says happily, “that looks like where we came in all right. So just how many of these portals are there? I hadn’t imagined that there could even be portals that just act like shortcuts from one part of the city to another.”

“Oh, sure,” you say. “There are all kinds of portals, from ones that just go down the street to ones that go all the way across the Great Ring.”

She looks blank.

“The Outer Planes?”

Still nothing.
“…the rim of the multiverse. That is, everything. Infinity.”

“Oh, okay,” she nods, but she seems hesitant, as if she’s having trouble processing something. “So wait… the ‘multiverse’ – is a ring?”

“… sort of. It’s complicated. It can be convenient to think of it that way, but if it really is a ring, you’re always at the centre of it.”

“I am?”

“Everyone is.”

“…what.”

You half-sigh, half-chuckle. Explaining things to Twilight’s satisfaction might take some time.

“Booooo-ring,” comes the judgement from Rainbow Dash. “Who’re those guys in the cool spiky armour down the street there?”

“Mercykillers, they’re called. Bounty hunters, jailors, executioners. Lovely chaps.”

“For real?”

“Nope.”

Wait a minute.

Mercykillers.

Mercykillers are the other reason why you haven’t shown your face in Sigil for a while, and these ones seem to be taking an interest in you as you approach.

A pointed interest. As in, they’re drawing their weapons. And pointing them at you. You groan inwardly as you realise that somebody must have tipped them off – and then you hear the heavy footsteps behind you, and look around to see the bladeling from the Fortune’s Wheel sprinting down the street to catch you up, sword drawn in his hand.

“Sir! Reporting for duty,” he calls out over your head to the captain of the Mercykillers.

Well, that figures. He must have sent warning ahead as soon as you said where you were going, and then followed you here.

“Anonymous! Give yourself up and face justice for your crimes,” comes the booming voice of the Mercykiller captain.

“Girls? You might want to get out of here,” you murmur to the ponies. “If I’m not mistaken, these gents don’t have any quarrel with you. You’d better get on home.”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack yell over each other in their haste to refuse.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Horseapples! We ain’t goin’ no place.”

“Right!” Twilight declares. “The Princess would never have invited you if you had really committed any crimes, so these people have no right to arrest you. She’s counting on us to bring you, and you can’t get through the portal without us.”

“Plus! We’re friends now,” says Pinkie. “And it’s not very nice to run away when your friends are in trouble.”

“Quite so,” Rarity says. “And what sort of pony would just turn tail and run in the face of such uncouth ruffians?”

>Fluttershy just gives a muted “eep” noise, but she stands at your side with the rest of them.

Spike is still asleep.

You give a sigh of exasperation. This is going to be hairy enough without having to worry about the safety of a bunch of helpless ponies. They seem determined to ‘help’, though. Better just resign yourself to it.

“Criminal, you have until the count of three to surrender any weapons you are carrying and give yourself over into our custody. One. Two. -”

You palm a knife, and spring into action.

Even as you start forward you hear the snaps of several crossbows being fired.Two of the crossbowmen are in front of you and you were fully expecting those shots, but from the sound of it there are at least four snipers firing from concealed positions as well. You drop to a low crouch and abandon your head-on charge in favour of weaving, serpentine approach. Heightened senses tell you that all but one of the shots are flying wide after your change of course, and you twist easily aside from the one that is on target. You can only hope that no ponies were in the firing line.

You pause just long enough to fling a pair of knives and send one of the crossbowmen down to the cobbles clutching at his throat, and then you continue to close the distance between you and the captain. The Mercykillers were prepared for your speed, though, and a good half dozen of them have formed up around their captain in defensive stances. It won’t be easy to pick a vulnerable target from that closely packed squad, but you intend to give it your best shot. If you can get into melee with them and sow some confusion, at least the crossbowmen will have a harder time drawing a bead on you. And hopefully won’t just decide to shoot the ponies for sport while they wait for their buddies to club you to death.

You’re not even halfway to the enemy, though, when you’re forced to revise your tactical considerations as a rainbow blur shoots past you and barrels straight into the one remaining visible crossbowman. The hapless Mercykiller is lifted several feet from the ground and propelled straight backwards until he crashes into a wall with a heavy crunch. Rainbow Dash swoops away from the point of impact, apparently completely unharmed, and seems to be preparing to come around for another pass. Either that was a very lucky shot, or these ponies might not be quite as helpless as you thought. You rather hope it’s the latter, because there look to be a good number of Mercykiller reinforcements already rushing into the fight. Pikey must have had backup right behind him.

Better stay focused on the main target; you continue your advance towards the Mercykiller captain and his men, a little more patiently now since in your peripheral vision you can see Rainbow Dash lining up for a pincer attack behind them. Two of the men have halberds, and they know how to use them to keep you at bay. It’d be an easy enough thing to slip inside their reach if they were alone, but when they have a couple of buddies with short swords standing next to them, that’s a bit of a riskier proposition.

You're happy enough to be kept at bay for now - you focus on distracting them and buying time, dodging around their probing thrusts and slashes. Meanwhile, behind you, you hear a cacophonous GONGGGG sound and then a fit of gleeful laughter. You glance around for long enough to see Pinkie Pie standing over the slumped figure of Pikey, brandishing an enormous mallet. You’re sure bladelings’ heads aren’t really supposed to make that sound when you hit them. And where the shit did that mallet come from? You’re past even wondering how she’s holding it in her hooves. Questions for another time. For now, your attention is drawn back to more immediate concerns as your delaying tactics pay off.

Rainbow Dash crashes into the whole group in front of you from their unguarded rear, sending half of them sprawling.That’s your cue. In a split second you're among them, darting from man to man, sliding your knives into the weak points of their armour and taking care that each one is incapacitated before you move on. Their attempts to counterattack aren’t up to much, disoriented as they are and with their formation shattered. Plenty more Mercykillers are joining the fight, but you’re in your element now, too fast and nimble for these clumsy oafs to hit. And Dash… Dash is even faster than you, totally untouchable as she darts here and there, her movements too quick for the eye to follow except by what she leaves behind – her prismatic wake and the groaning, crumpled bodies of her enemies.

Whenever you can spare a moment’s attention you try to check on how the other ponies are doing, and are mostly reassured by the glimpses you catch. Twilight’s horn is glowing fiercely as she fires off bolts of searing purple energy at any enemies who get too close. Here and there you notice purple force fields throughout the fight, too, creating strategic chokepoints or shielding an ally from the approach of an unseen enemy. Applejack has fashioned a lasso out of razorvine and is holding it in her teeth, expertly whirling it about her head. Razorvine. In her teeth. As you watch, the lasso drops over three guards and trusses them together into a helpless pile.

Rarity, eschewing the subtler tactics of her friends, is elegantly punching Mercykillers in the face. She doesn’t seem to be too refined for the odd low-blow, either. Spike is scampering around, evading capture at the hands of several Mercykillers who are blundering into each other regularly in their efforts to lay hands on the small dragon. One of them finally manages to seize him, and then hurriedly drops him again after getting a face full of dragonfire for his trouble. And Pinkie is pelting everybody indiscriminately with water balloons, pausing only to fire off some sort of small explosives at any Mercykillers who get too close with a shower of confetti and streamers each time. Shreds of coloured tissue paper are everywhere, raining down on the brawl like snow. This fight is not only going rather well, but must rank among the funniest things you’ve seen in years.

Wait.

Where’s Fluttershy? You scan the battlefield and eventually spot her, backing into an alley with four armoured men advancing on her. You feel a surge of protectiveness and make a beeline for the yellow pegasus pony, but you don’t get far before you’re forced to step back to avoid the sudden onrush of an oversized mace-head like a titan’s great metal bollock. The cumbersome weapon comes crashing down just inches in front of you, shattering the cobbles and nearly knocking you off your feet with the impact. The weapon is now imbedded deeply in the street, but its wielder wrenches it free with disturbing ease and draws back for another blow.

The figure before you stands easily twice your height and is entirely covered in heavy metal plating etched with Mercykiller insignia. And spikes, spikes everywhere. Mercykillers love spikes. You have the chance to study the wind up for this next swing, so the weapon’s arc doesn’t take you by surprise. It’s still an enormous lump of steel hurtling towards you at meteoric speeds, though. You manage to get out of its reach, only to stumble against the back of another Mercykiller. At least this one is human-sized, and seems as surprised as you by the collision. You get over it more quickly than he does and quickly dodge around him before backing hurriedly away as another awesome swing of the enormous mace knocks him aside like a rag doll. Apparently the big basher doesn’t worry too much about a few friendly casualties in the line of duty. He’s still advancing on you, lashing out with great scything sweeps of his mace.

You’re running out of room to back up; you can sense a wall a couple of feet behind you. Must be time to get clever. You feint sideways to draw out another swing from the giant, and use the last of your breathing space to dodge backwards out of it. Wasting no time, you spring upwards with a burst of power and scrabble for a hold on the wall behind you; your situational awareness has always been a strong point, and if you remember rightly there should be a first floor window shutter right about… there. You catch hold of it and hang suspended for a moment, ten feet off the ground, while your monstrous foe takes your new bearings and lines up to swat you off the wall – or, more likely, through it - with his next swing. You tense and coil, bracing yourself against the wall, waiting for just the right moment. And there it is. The enormous mace comes hurtling towards you once more and you launch yourself with another burst of speed, getting inside the swing’s arc before it can hit you.

You land deftly perched on the Mercykiller’s shoulders and waste no time in taking advantage of the position before he can shake you off. Your dagger finds the eye slit in his helmet and there's a ring of steel sliding on steel as it plunges through to the soft, yielding flesh beneath - wait. That doesn’t feel very soft and yielding. With a bellow, the giant reaches a hand back and tears you from his shoulders, dashing you to the ground. His helmet comes with you, and as your vision stops swimming you can see that the hateful countenance scowling down at you looks like a misshapen and tumescent mass of bone, leather and scales. It’s missing an eye now, but that doesn’t seem to slow the guy down much.

Some kind of Fiendish half breed with an ogre or a hill giant? Well, but now might not be the best time to speculate on his ancestry. One armoured foot is planted on your chest to crush all the wind out of you while he raises his mace high above his head to make an end of the job.

And then a water balloon hits him squarely in his hideous face.

“Hee!” Pinkie’s triumphant giggle carries across the battlefield. “Gotcha! You’re out, no tag-backs.”

The abomination is just puzzled enough by this to relax the weight on your chest for one moment, and that’s all you need. You can’t squirm out from under his boot without him noticing, but you manage to get an arm free and draw a knife. Better make this one count. Dismissing the pink pony as a matter best left for later, the giant looks back down, leering as he savours the imminent prospect of crushing the life out of you.

Your knife embeds itself in his one remaining eye with a satisfying thunk, and he lets out a horrible scream. Blinded, he staggers backwards, letting you up and incidentally trampling over a couple of his regular-sized Faction-mates who were trying to struggle to their feet behind him. He hefts his oversized mace again and lashes out with it, but it’s a hopeless blind swing, just a desperate attempt to take out some of his pain and confusion on anything near. Warily you back away, and quickly ascertain that there aren’t many other threats still moving. The street is littered with the wounded or subdued bodies of dozens of Mercykillers. And confetti. Lots of confetti.

Rainbow Dash is zipping from window to window of the houses down the street, checking for any of the crossbow snipers still remaining. The giant is lumbering off, groaning in pain. You figure it’s best to just let him go.

“Wheeee! That was fun!” Pinkie sing-songs, letting off a final blast of confetti and streamers for good measure.

“You okay, sugarcube?” comes Applejack’s voice from your side.

You turn with a start to see the orange pony looking up at you with concern. Rainbow Dash lands next to her, and she’s looking you over for injury as well. This is so absurd.

“I’m fine,” you say. Well, that’s a lie, you probably have a couple of broken ribs, but… all things considered, it could be a lot worse. “Thanks to you ponies. That was… quite a show. From all of you. What about you? You all okay?”

You look around and see that everyp0ny seems mercifully unhurt. But Fluttershy is missing. Last time you saw her, she was backing into a blind alleyway with four Mercykillers closing in on her. You dash over to the alley to find the Mercykillers still there, sitting cross-legged in a semi-circle around her.

“…and that’s why you should try to be nicer, not just to me, but to each other,” the pony is finishing in her usual hushed tones. “Oh, hello Anonymous, is the fighting all over?”

You notice more than one of the Mercykillers seem to have a tear or two glistening in their eyes.

“...yup, we’re all done… and you?”

“Oh, nearly,” she smiles. “But I think each of these people needs to write me a letter of apology and explain what they’ve learned about using violence to get their way.”

You are speechless. Soon Spike, at Fluttershy’s request, has distributed paper and quill pens to each of the four Mercykillers. You wonder if you should be writing a letter too, on the importance of never underestimating ponies. Three of the Mercykillers are studiously writing away, tongues occasionally protruding with the intellectual effort. The fourth and final one is just staring sadly at his sheet of paper. Finally he breaks down in tears.

“Oh no, no, come on, it’s all right, there’s no harm done,” Fluttershy soothes him. “I’m sure you’re a good person, you’ve just done something silly and you need to make it right.”

“But… but… it’s not that,” the Mercykiller chokes out between sobs.

“Then what is it?”

“I… I can’t read or write…”

Fluttershy looks horrified.

“You can’t… oh, my goodness, but this is just awful. Didn’t you go to school?”

“No…”

“Well that’s not right. That’s not right at all.”

Fluttershy is getting a determined look on her face.

“I think you’d better come with us. In Equestria, every little filly or colt gets an education before we give them responsibility. That’s only fair. You deserve the same chances that they have.”

“Umm… Fluttershy?” Twilight speaks up. She sounds dubious, which is somewhat relieving.

“Yes, Twilight?”

“I’d be the last pony to dismiss the value of a good education, but do you really think Ms Cheerilee is going to be able to handle this full-grown human with proven violent tendencies on top of all the fillies and colts she already has to deal with?”

“Oh, but it’s not fair to say that he has proven violent tendencies, Twilight. He deserves a second chance! If we write him off just because he’s made bad choices, how will he ever know any better?”

Twilight frowns, seeming unable to answer that. You see which way the wind is blowing, why even fight it?

“Bring him with us, then, but we need to get going soon,” you say. “The Harmonium will be along any minute now to start arresting people for breach of the peace.”

Happily the three literate Mercykillers have now finished their letters to Fluttershy’s satisfaction. The fourth and final one seems more than willing to meekly follow her around; he tries to tell her his name, but she can’t pronounce it, so the ponies all agree to just call him Mercy.

You’re soon at the edge of the great square where the Trioptic Nic’Epona rears its majestic head. The statue stands on a pedestal in the centre of the square. There are shallow steps leading up to it on all sides, but a ring of vigilant Doomguard soldiers stand guard, barring public access to the monument.

“So, about this portal,” you say. “First things first, did you have any trouble with the Doomguard on your way here?”

“Doomguard?” says Rarity. “Is that what those gentlemen call themselves? How perfectly dismal. But, no, no trouble at all, they were most civil. They did seem a little surprised to see us at first, but once we showed them Princess Celestia’s seal they let us right on through with no bother.”

Well, that’s interesting.

“Okay, super. And what about the portal key? What is it?”

“It’s Twilight!” Pinkie says happily.

You raise your eyebrows. This would be the first case you’d ever heard of a portal key being a specific sentient being. “Really?”

“Umm… kinda,” Twilight says with a trace of discomfort. “See, the thing is, we’re the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. We’re going to need them to get through the portal anyway, so we may as well show you.”

Twilight’s horn glows and she telekinetically opens up her saddlebags and removes a case which, in turn, contains six glittering pieces of golden jewelery set with magnificent gems. They immediately start to attract covetous attention from passers-by; you’re glad that the ponies had the sense not to put these on display earlier. Although now that you’ve seen the ponies in action, you’re not so sure that any would-be thief would have come off very well in the exchange.

Five of the gems are set into golden torcs or neck clasps of some sort, and Twilight levitates each of these in turn to one of her friends. She reels off the respective Element as Fluttershy, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie each get their adornment – Kindness, Honesty, Generosity, Loyalty, Laughter.

“And Magic,” Twilight finishes as the remaining gem, set in a golden tiara, settles on her head. “But… Magic is a little different. Magic, combined with true friendship, is the spark that activates all the Elements and gives them power.”

“…of course it is.”

You’re definitely coming back round to your original theory that these ponies are Proxies. Proxies of the most eccentric goddess ever, apparently.

“Well, that’s the portal key. The spark that activates the Elements of Harmony.”

“Right,” you nod, processing that. “But, then, how do Mercy and I get through? Wouldn’t we need to be Bearers of one of these Elements as well?”

“I’m not sure, but Princess Celestia didn’t seem to be worried about your ability to follow us, so I think it should be okay. My working theory is, as long as we’re friends, you’ll be able to get through as well.”

“Well, okay, I’m game to give it a try. Do we need to do some sort of friendship ritual, or…?”

"No-" Twilight begins, but is cut off by Pinkie’s squeal of delight.

“Yes! A friendship ritual sounds super fun, we have to have one!”

“…we’re in kind of a hurry,” you remind her.

“Aww, but-“

“We could do it once we’re safe and sound in Equestria?”

Pinkie thinks about that for a moment.

“Pinkie promise we’ll do one?”

“…okay?”

“Repeat after me: cross my heart…”

She looks pretty serious.

“…cross my heart…”

“Hope to fly,”

“…hope to fly…”

“Stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“…”

She’s staring at you with eyes that could pierce the soul of a lesser man.

“…stick a… cupcake… really?”

“STICK A CUPCAKE IN MY EYE.”

“…stick a cupcake in my eye.”

“Yay!”

She gives a couple of bounces, seeming entirely satisfied.

“So, what about Mercy?” you ask, moving swiftly on. “It doesn’t seem like you and him have really had time to bond yet, Twilight.”

“It’s okay,” Fluttershy puts in quietly. “He’s my friend, so he still counts.”

The huge man’s look of adoring servility as he follows the little yellow pony about could be interpreted as friendship, at a stretch, you suppose.

“Well, okay. So… I guess we’re all set?”

“Right,” Twilight smiles. “Let’s go!”

She trots up to the Doomguard, and you are more than content to let her lead the way in talking to those surly bastards. Sure enough, once they see Princess Celestia’s seal, they let the whole bunch of you right through with not a word of complaint. So here you are at the base of the Tripona. It’s commonly known that there are portals here – several of them – but it’s also known that nobody gets to use them except for a few of the city’s Golden Lords and Faction high-ups. And now you and these ponies. You smile to think of the rumours that will be circulating about you while you’re out of town.

As the ponies approach the huge archway made by the Epona’s rearing hind legs, the air within starts to shimmer and churn with the colours of the Elements of Harmony. Twilight smiles encouragement at you.

“You’d better go first,” she suggests. “In case you can’t get through.”

You nod.

“Here I go then.”