> Welcome to the Herd
>  by Kandagger
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> In which our self-insert hero learns just how screwed he is.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Welcome to the Herd
Chapter 1:
“Rise and shine Danny-boy,” came a merry voice, “The Bat Signal is up, the stock market is down, and the babes are sizzling.”

In case you didn’t guess, until approximately 0.5 seconds ago I was stone cold, REM-tastically asleep.  The five page paper due tomorrow morning was only just completed and I needed, nay deserved, my Zs.  So yeah, “rising and shining” were two things definitely NOT on my agenda at this time.  Even so, force of habit dictated that I lift my head up and look around.  Nope, still dark out.  Mr. Acid Trip—whoever he was—was going to pay when the sun came up but right now, dreamland beckons.  I flopped back on the sand and tried to get comfortable.

Waitaminute…sand?

Last time I checked I was in a bed, in my room, in my dorm, in the middle of freakin Illinois.  Sand should have absolutely nothing to do with any of that.  And yet, here I was, practically buried in the stuff.  I bolted upright with a particularly unmanly yelp and brushed the sand off my PJs like it was poisonous.  I looked around in quick jerky movements, trying to find something, anything, to place just where I was.

Some sort of film noir wackyland, that’s where I was.  I currently stood on a plane of endless white sand that glowed softly in the moonlight like snow.  Except the moon was huge and marred with the unmistakable Batman sigil etched into its face.  The sky was thick with clouds, rendering the whole plane with a further stark, Gotham-esque quality.  But even through the chiascuro, I could tell I was not alone in this world…or whatever this was.

A gaggle of girls played with a disco ball, serving and passing it like they were in Dead or Alive.  They looked like they were from Dead or Alive besides—perfectly formed limbs, big anime eyes, and jiggle physics that sent them right to the bottom of the uncanny valley.  Also they were on fire…did I mention that?  Well they were on fire, or were made of fire or something and the amount of shifting and refracting light did something weird to the big stone they were using as a volleyball net.

Oh yeah, and there was this stone; big, maybe ten feet tall, and squat like a pillar from Stonehenge, but lumpy and misshapen.  I couldn’t quite figure out if it was a natural formation or a sculpture of some kind.  All I knew was that it creeped me the heck out.  See, where the moon—er “Bat-signal”—was made the stone cast a very long shadow.  The fire-girls and the disco ball, each their own separate sources of light, warped the shadow until it resembled nothing more than a big lop-sided dragon.  And with each movement and pass of the ball, the shadow swayed and danced like a living thing.  It was uncanny that such a random collection of nonsense would produce…

“So, what do you think of my little dreamscape, hmmm?” The shadow spoke in the same voice that woke me up—and I probably lost two years of my life due to shock, “Considering the horrid restraints on my work, it’s not too bad…but you should see what I can do with a real budget.”

I shook my head vigorously to get the cobwebs out, hoping the apparition would vanish with a soft reset of the old brainpan.  I open my eyes.  Nope, that thing was still there.  But I still couldn’t believe it.  The shadow, made by light sources moving about at random, was talking to me and worse acting like HE was the one generating everything, and not the other way around.

My mind raced with the possibilities; was this all a dream?  Or was it legit?  I had read too many fantasy books to just write this all off as delusion.  But this was too stupid to be one of those “guy wakes up in another world” sort of scenarios.  There had to be something I was missing because if I was going to spend any amount of time in this infernal offspring of Chuck Jones and Terry Gilliam, you might as well just shoot me now.

However none of that changed the fact that our friend the Shadow Dragon was waiting for an answer.  I took a calming breath.  Acting genes don’t fail me now.

“Hmmm…” I began, trying to drudge up memories of art class, “It has a certain stark beauty to it, to be sure.  But I certainly don’t see myself calling it a masterpiece.  The imagery alone is way too Freudian and certainly speaks unpleasant deviancies from its creator.  Worse still the use of color clashes horribly with overall palate, and draws your attention to the flaming bikini models and not the shadow—which I presume to be the focus of the work.”

Booyah.  Say what you will about the liberal arts but they certainly teach you to BS with the best of them.   The dragon leaned forward (or rather its head got bigger in relation to its body…I was staring at a two dimensional figure after all).  He did not look all that impressed.  I gulped, “But then again, mine is only one opinion and certainly not that of an expert.”

The shadow glared at me a long moment before suddenly leaned back and let out a loud brassy laugh, “Oh…a banterer, what fun!  I haven’t played with a banterer in years.”  He clapped his…hands? claws? paws?  like a Disney character.  Every action perfectly visible even through the black fog of silhouette, “Usually all I get is the same old “where am I?” and “who are you?”  But not you, Daniel, oh no you go right for the jokes—I knew I had the right guy for the job.”

That wasn’t good.  The only thing worse than a being of unknown but significant power was a being of unknown but significant power AND a sense of humor.  They may be equally deadly, but the jokester needs less of an excuse to kill you.  I took a few steps back, hoping that a better look at the stone would get me a few answers.  In the meantime, I needed to keep him talking.  “You know my name?”

The dragon tsked, “Ach, so close to completely cliché free…well, I suppose we can’t all be perfect.  Let’s see…” he dug out a pair of glasses and opened a small book with the word “script” clearly visible despite its shadowy makeup, “Let’s see…ah, here we are!” he cleared his throat and began speaking in a dull disinterested voice, “I know so much more than that, Daniel.  I know you’re sick and tired of…’” he closed the book with a snap and tossed it away, “Honestly, who writes that drivel?  Not a clever word to be found.”

“No idea,” I mused, “and yet they still pay him a decent salary.” A pause for awkward chuckles “Speaking of which, if all this was for a job, you could have just posted it online…the economy the way it is I might have come to you.”

A few more steps backward…the stone was becoming clearer.  It was a statue, but of what, I couldn’t tell.

The shadow shook its head, “mmmm, sadly this isn’t exactly a ‘nine-to-five workweek and a steady paycheck’ kind of thing.  More of a ‘suffer through the worst the environment can throw at you and after a while you might get a reward’ situation.”

“So, an internship then?”

“HA! Closer, but still no cigar,” The dragon said, “Take your time…I have all eternity.”  He paused a moment and his expression grew cunning, “Cute, Danny-boy, but the ‘stall the bad-guy to learn stuff’ trick was old a millennium ago.”

I froze. Busted.

“Besides, you could have just asked.  It’s not like I’m shy, after all,” He snapped his fingers and the shadows surrounding the stone lifted like a curtain.

Now what the heck was THAT supposed to be?  Frankenstein’s interpretation of a Chinese dragon?  A “Chimera” from some video game that had no idea what a chimera actually was? A draco-serpio-leo-aquillo-…what was Latin for ‘goat’ again?-snufflepagus?  Or maybe…

Oh God…

I knew what it was.

Rendered perfectly in fully three dimensional marble was a monster from a children’s cartoon—one I’d only watched a few episodes of but definitely remembered the ones with this guy in them.  It was the equivalent of Satan for a cutesy sugar bowl that manipulated, cheated and mind-raped purely for kicks and giggles.  And he was now staring at me both in frozen stony horror, and animated shadowy delight.

“Discord?”

“Got it in one, Danny-Boy!” Discord’s shadow laughed with DeLancian glee.

“But…you’re not real.” I stammered, “NONE of this is real!”

“Pshaw!  Reality!  Who gives a flying pig about reality?” Discord shot back, “’Not I,’ said the draconequus.”

“I’m dreaming,” I said, shutting my eyes, “This has got to be a dream.  I’m in my room dead asleep and soon I’ll wake up in a cold sweat with only Friday’s classes to worry about.”

Discord frowned, “Let’s see, who was it that said, “denial is to be expected in the face of pure chaos?” He snapped his talons a few times, “Ach, I’m sure it will come to me…anyways, by all means, continue to freak out.  You’re the only one here on a timer after all.”

I sobered instantly, “What do you mean, ‘timer’?”

Discord turned smug, “Quite simple really.  You are the key piece in my latest plot to take over Equestria.” He paused before adding, “Of course.”

I waited for him to continue, but he seemed to think that was enough.  The silence actually got awkward before I spoke, “And...how does that work with you being a lawn ornament, again?”

“Well that’s the thing isn’t it?” he held up his hands and began to create something out of shadow, “I have had a lot of time to stew over my first defeat at Celestia and her blasted sister’s hands, and in that time I came to realize that you can’t lock away Chaos completely.  Absolute Order would be just as bad in dear Celestia’s book as absolute Chaos—poor misguided thing.”  His ball suddenly became a yin-yang symbol.  “Therefore in Celestia’s head, Equestria requires a balance.” He put his finger in the hole in the yin side and turned the symbol like a wheel, “and every time I tip those scales in favor of Chaos, somehow, some way, some-thing will always push it back.”  The dot in the yang side suddenly split into six little Elements of Harmony and the symbol forcibly righted itself.  Discord shook his hand loose as if the very image of the Elements hurt him.  Then he got a crafty grin on his face, “If, however, I lean a little on the side nobody is looking at…” He flicked the yang side and the circle tipped lazily counter-clockwise.

It stopped with the yin side noticeably more dominant, “…you have that much more wiggle room.” I finished for him, mouth dry.

“Which brings us to you, Danny-Boy,” He pointed at me on the ‘you.’  The freaking shadow’s finger lifted off of the ground and pointed right at me, “That stone prison is sealed up tighter than a pickle jar.  And no amount of banging on the inside is going to open it.  But, if I were to say, find a nice big stick-in-the-mud from somewhere else and drop him in the middle of the game board, the resulting imbalance will give me the space I need to get out for realz.” his whole hand suddenly launched out of the ground and he wiggled his fingers at me, “See?  Already you’re helping.” 

I thought fast.  There are only so many solutions one can come up with when scared out of your mind, so I shut that part of me away and promised myself I’d scream later.  I had an idea, not a good idea mind you, but if I was right I might be able to stop this before it even started.

I took a deep breath, “So…you’re going to send me to Pony-world, and merely by me being there you’ll have the power to break out?”
“Well not immediately” Discord replied gesturing to his statue, “But eventually, that’s for certain.  Which of course means you might be able to stop me.” He stifled a laugh, and made it really obvious he was doing so, “I figured we could make a game out of it.  I’ll play the heroic innocent imprisoned wrongfully by jealous peers.  And you can play the evil officer of “the man,” hell-bent on locking me up once again.  It’ll be fun!”

Well for him maybe.  That didn’t sound like fun to me at all. “And what if I say no?”

The smile vanished off Discord’s face like someone had stolen it, “Beg pardon?”

“You heard me.” I snapped back, sounding a whole lot more self-assured than I felt “What if I chose to throw the game 
board in your face and stomp out of here in a huff?  What could you do?”

He just stared…oh my god I was RIGHT.

“You can’t do anything can you?” I laughed, the sudden rush of endorphins making me giddy, “You’re just a statue, or a shadow, or a figment of my imagination or something.  Point being, without my consent you can’t do jack.

“I created this dreamscape, didn’t I?” Discord said, thunder rumbling ominously from the clouds overhead, “There is in fact a great deal I can do to you…and none of it pleasant.”

“Yeah?” I shot back, feeling a golden light wash over me as I did so, “Go ahead.  Do your worst.  If you kill me, you’ll have to find some other stooge.  Break my mind, and I’m a force of Chaos not Order.”

I swear I could hear the hopeful music swell in the background, “Your entire “plan” for what it’s worth, needs me to play along with your mad schemes just as I am.  Well guess what Genius?  I ain’t playing.  Pack up your dreams and your flaming-hot volleyball players and find some other schmuck—maybe somebody that actually watches your goddamn show—to do your dirtywork.  I am not going anywhere.”

Discord didn’t look terribly impressed.  When I finished talking he just stared at me, bored. “What makes you think you have a choice?”

I felt hot arms wrap around my neck…one of the Fiery Bimbos of Death.  She had snuck up on me while I was monologing, and now I was learning what hugging a campfire felt like.  It hurt.  Starless hells did it hurt.  My chest and neck were searing under her flames, and when she pressed herself into my back, that began burning too.  I reeled and bucked and twisted in my need to get away from the pain.  But whatever she was made of stuck like tar and the T-shirt and sweatpants I slept in were quickly becoming piles of ashes.  She was melting into me.  I felt her spread and roil across my back and sides like boiling caramel, burning down into my tissues and searing them into new and mad shapes

“It’s good that you are so defiant,” Discord’s voice echoed through my agony, “You will need that defiance if you want to win our little game.  But honestly right now is not the time for it” Fire girl wrapped her legs around mine, bringing me to my knees “Stop resisting and just enjoy the experience.  After all you’re getting what ten thousand guys would kill for.” He pointed to my shadow—which was shifting and warping beneath the flames.  It was starting to look more like a horse than a man.  No, more like a pony than a man.

I screamed in horror but Discord paid me no mind, “Better get used to it, my little Brony, you’re going to be stuck that way a looong time.  Forever if I have any say in things.” He lifted my rapidly lengthening muzzle with a finger and brought his shadowy head off the sand to look directly into my eyes, “So, allow me to be the first to tell you, Welcome to the Herd.”

My eyes went dark and I knew no more.

To be Continued.

	

> In which our hero awakens in Equestria and determines the quickest way to leave again.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2:

Oy, what I headache do I have…

I wake up on the stone cold floor, feeling like I got run over by the proverbial old Ford.  What a weird dream.  Why in the world would I dream about a show I don’t even watch?  Why would I conjure up being turned into a small cutesy horse by having my humanity seared away?  And why on earth would it scare me so bad that I would fall out of bed?  I lift up my arm to reach for where my bed should be…

Clop!

That ought to have been more of a fwump…the sound of a hand hitting a mattress and maybe a blanket.  But no, that was the sound of a hoof hitting a cobblestone.  And I come fully awake just in time to have my much delayed freak out.

I was a pony.  I was really a pony.  This wasn’t a dream.  I had been turned into an avatar of cuteness and marketing genius by the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony.  And worse I was now sucked into some sort of grand world-spanning game that needed me to defeat said Spirit as said Pony.  I was screwed.  And so was Pony-world, whatever it was called.  The Dragon Beyond the World was going to kick my equine flank and roast my corpse over a fire-girl along with his marshmallows.

I found myself running in circles, alternately screaming and whimpering and muttering little bits of what I was thinking.  Mostly just “I’m a pony,” and “I’m going to die.”  I had to get my act together before I did something really stupid—like whine enough to make Shinji Ikari look brave.

I hoofed myself hard in the face.

Owww.

Note to self: hooves hurt a lot more than hands.  But at least I wasn’t hysterical anymore.

…Nope, now I’m IN PAIN and STILL HYSTERICAL.

I paused as the words of Leopold Bloom sounded in the recesses of my mind.  And despite myself I started laughing.  It wasn’t the cackle of madness but a low breathy chuckle of genuine humor.  God bless Mel Brooks…or Celestia bless him as the case may be.  I let out that last little sigh that finishes a good laugh and resolved to not freak out anymore.  Now was the time to figure out where I was, and formulate a plan.

The sky turned bluer outside the windows.  Sunrise.  I could already make out the walls and columns of a great chamber made of stone.  The moss and lichen scattered about marked it as long abandoned.  I saw a set of doors slightly ajar behind me, and another set completely off their hinges in front…through this doorway I could see a dais where thrones might be placed.  I turned around and headed out the first doorway, hoping a hunch was correct.

I found myself outside, in a courtyard far too long abandoned to nature.  The courtyard ended at a sheer drop with an old rickety bridge as the only means of traversing it.  Across the bridge was nothing but forest, the wild black forest of the nastier sort of fairytales. The trees were all old growth, gnarled and twisted things covered in vines and moss.  I could almost sense them objecting to my very presence…even as a pony I was far too civilized a thing for these woods.

And suddenly I knew where I was.

As I have made very obvious I was not, and had no intention of ever becoming a “brony.”  However I am a modern day user of the internet, and therefore I have run into several groups of these strange creatures.  Their fervor and passion for the show means that it was only a matter of time before I would break down and see what all the fuss was about.

I watched the season one premier...both episodes.  And yes, I could see why the show was popular.  The animation was beautiful, the voices excellent and the music top-notch.  They told an excellent story in those 44 minutes and so I naturally clicked on the link for the next episode…and promptly lost all interest.  It’s probably just a pet peeve of mine, but I can’t stand the viewpoint character of any show angsting over trivial matters (I blame “Doug”).  And “who gets to go to the ball” was not a big enough problem for me.  So I fell away from the series…well, for a while anyway.  But those two episodes stuck with me, and one look at those trees told me I was in the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters.

I racked my brain for the specifics of those episodes.  Let’s see, the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters (man, that’s a mouthful) was long abandoned for the City of Canterlot.  The reason for the abandonment probably had something to with the “Everfree Forest” that currently surrounded the place.  The Forest was so named because unlike everywhere else in Equestria (oh right, THAT’S what this country was called), the weather acted on its own and the animals were overtly hostile to ponykind.  Since the random encounter list for this area included Manticores and Sea Serpents it was no wonder the residents of Ponyville never went there if they could avoid it.  Now, on one hand, this meant I was in the middle of a forest big enough to house most of a monster manual with zero wilderness survival skills.  On the other hand, I was also within a day’s walk of Ponyville—where there would be people that could help me get word to Celestia about Discord’s impending escape.  All I had to do was get there.

I began purposefully walking across the bridge.  Just because I had seen the characters from the TV show cross without trouble didn’t mean I would be so lucky—the old rickety bridge gag is a classic after all.  One step after another, I tested each plank before putting my weight on it.  It seemed solid enough but the instant I got careless was the instant I fell to my doom.  Step by step the far side of the bridge got closer, but I didn’t dare change my pattern of caution.  It was slow going but eventually I stepped back on to terra firma without any incident whatsoever.

“Well, that was anticlimactic.” I commented to no one, “Now, which way was Ponyville again?”

It took me a whole thirty seconds of staring at the forest before I realized I was truly an idiot.

I knew where I was.  But I didn’t know exactly where I wanted to go.  If I just pressed forward in a random direction, I could be wandering this stupid forest for days and not get anywhere…or worse wander out of the WRONG side of the forest in completely unfamiliar territory.  However the Palace I was so blissfully trotting away from happened to have a nice high tower that rose above the tree canopy.  And in theory, were I to look long enough from up there, I could FIND Ponyville and walk in its general direction instead of faffing about the forest and hoping for the best.  I did an about-face and stomped back to the castle; ego bruised but otherwise unharmed.

I crossed the threshold once again and began wandering the halls, looking for stairs.  First floor, second floor, third floor…everything in the castle looked pretty much the same—old, bare, and falling apart.  It’s really not worth looking into unless you like architecture.  The towers were a little tricky.  I climbed three different ones only to discover that they didn’t get above the tree line, and that I had somehow walked past the one I wanted.  Finally, after much cardio, much trial and error, and a ridiculously unfair number of stairs, I ascended to the highest room of the tallest tower and hoped it was worth all the trouble.

It wasn’t a bedroom, like I expected (too many fantasy movies with princesses I guess).  Instead I found myself in an observatory, or the remains of one.  It was dark, save for several patches of light from the holes in the roof.  Anything useful had long been removed, or deteriorated to worthlessness.  All I had was a spot where a big telescope might sit, a few levers on one wall and a couple piles of junk.  Oh, and no windows.  All that work and no windows.

“Oh come ON!” I shouted heavenward, "Throw me a bone, here!”

Unfortunately this looked like the sort of day where the only bones fate handed you were the ones you dug out of the ground yourself.  True there were no windows…but this was an observatory room.  And if the grooves in the ceiling were any indication, I ought to be able to open said ceiling right where a telescope might peek out, and climb up there to go sightseeing.

I tried the levers on the wall first…and again had no luck.  Whatever bamboo and coconut contraption that opened the roof had long ago rotted away to nothing.  Fine, be that way.  I sighed and began pushing all the piles of stuff to the wall nearest the grooves in the ceiling.  If thinking wasn’t going to work, brute strength might.  Once the pile was big enough to stand on, I climbed atop it and began heaving at one of the big panels in the ceiling.

“Tch, like that’s going to work.” A voice echoed through my ears.

I paused and looked around.  It didn’t look like there was anyone here.  But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something talking to me.  I kept pushing on the panel while looking around, trying to spot the speaker.

“That’s right, keep pushing at literally a ton of metal and expecting it to move.  It’s such an efficient use of your time.”

The speaker was female.  That much was obvious.  She also spoke with a distinct accent that I didn’t know the proper name of.  I usually just called it the “Harley Quinn” accent—all weird vowels, exaggerated T’s and D’s and a nasal whine that made you grit your teeth and shudder at the acoustic horror.

“Well, if you have any better suggestions, I’m all ears.” I replied.

Silence.

I groaned and got back to work.  Maybe the other panel would be looser.

“You do know what they say about fanatics right?” 

I had just about had it with it stupid voice, “What?  About them expecting different results from the same plan? Why no.  Why don’t you come out and enlighten me?”

“Look down.”

Okay…this was making less sense by the minute, but I looked down regardless “At what?  All I see is a pile of junk.”

“Then maybe you need to look harder.”

I gave her a flat stare—which is hard to do when you can’t see what you are staring at.

“Very well O disembodied-reggae-space-voice, I am now looking harder.” I made an exaggerated farce of doing so. “I see some bits of scrap metal, an old wooden table, a big brass plate that might have reflected light at…”

I paused as I realized what I was looking at…or rather who.  The plate was polished to a mirror shine and the patina of dust did little to obscure it.  I was looking my reflection, and a pony stared back at me.  I leaped off my pile and began dusting off the old mirror, hoping to get a better look at who I was now.

I was…basically the same actually.  Back in reality I was six feet of white literature nerd.  I had the classic brown hair and brown eyes and only exercised enough to stay sorta kinda skinny.  My ponyfication had changed none of that; it just made the colors clearer.  My face was covered in off-white fur and a lock of dark brown mane hung in front of my eyes.  That struck me as awful drab for a Discord Curse, but since I wasn’t pink, I wasn’t complaining.  I also noted that I did not possess a horn.  Drat.  Magic would have made my life so much easier.  So would wings come to think of it.

I shifted so I could see myself from the side, and got a major surprise.  Not that wasn’t a Pegasus—oh no, wings would be waaay too convenient—but that I was a pinto.  My back was all but covered in an ugly brown-bleeding-to-orange stain that snaked its way around my neck and shoulders and all the way down to my hindquarters.  It looked kind of like a burn scar…or a Rorschach test, or something.  All I knew was it made me the first bi-colored pony I could think of and that I didn’t like it.  I also noted I already had one of those stupid stickers on my ass that the toys come with so you could tell them apart—mine was paired Comedy and Tragedy masks resting on a purple ribbon, which was odd since I hadn’t done anything theater-y in years.  Oh well, it probably wasn’t all that significant.

I twisted myself to get a better look at the stain.  There was something here I wasn’t getting.  Was it shaped like something, or just a random blotch?  Maybe if I started tracing the lines…

“Looking good, sexy.”

“GAH!”

I know I promised I wouldn’t freak out anymore—and I really meant it.  But seriously, when part of your neck detaches from the rest of you, inflates into a head and sets itself on fire, you get freak out privileges.  The head was soon followed by the neck, shoulders, back, and then everything else of the fire-girl that turned me into a pony in the first place.  She was the brown patches on my coat!

My head shot over my shoulder, only to find my back completely demon-less. And yet one look back in the mirror showed a fully formed fire-girl using my back as the set piece for a playboy spread—arms languidly wrapped around my neck and one leg cocked in the air and everything.  Even so, I had to look back and forth several times to get it through my thick skull that she was only visible in mirror.

Great, I now had voices in my head and suffered from delusions.  Today was getting better and better.

“Who are you, what are you, and why are you attached to me?” I barked.

“D’aww…you’re even cuter when you’re flustered,” the fire girl giggled, “Your eyes get all narrow and your spine arches like a cat's.  I wouldn’t be surprised if your hackles got up like one too.”  She deliberately ran a hand over my back and shoulders…which I could feel like something sliding around beneath my skin.  “Hmm…guess not, a shame”

I shuddered like I was covered in cockroaches, “Would you kindly stop that?”

“But you’re so soft and fuzzy!” she exclaimed, burying her face in my shoulder, “I just can’t help myself!”

“Well try,” I snapped, “It’s really hard to think with you doing that.” Ugh it felt like her face was pressing out of my shoulder instead of in.

“Aw gee Doc I didn’t know you cared…” she smirked, “You must be having a looong dry spell if face-to-shoulder is enough to get your motor running.”

Good grief, Bugs Bunny meets Mae West; I’m going to need a lot of therapy after this.

Her eyes glittered with mischief, “You wanna see what I can do with other parts?

“NO!” I reared, but caught myself before I ran away screaming.  The blunt method clearly wasn’t working here.  I needed a new angle of attack.  Banter perhaps; it worked well enough on Discord that it was worth trying on his minion.
I cleared my throat, “I mean, no thank you miss.  I’d much rather talk now.”

She groaned, “Tch…typical guy, always with the mushy stuff first.  I want some ACTION!”

I rolled my eyes, “Well any "action" is going to have to wait until I know your name…a man has to have some standards after all.”

Her brow furrowed, “…But you’re a stallion.”

“Beside the point,” I replied, “The point is I appear to have a new imaginary friend and I would like to get to know her before she gets me into trouble.”

“Hey, who are you calling imaginary?” She slapped my flank for emphasis…ow.  “I’m as real as you are, buddy.”

“I’m not your buddy, friend.” I said, “I know all my buddies’ names.”

“Touché mine host, but you’re not getting anything from me,” She said, “Just because I was born yesterday, doesn’t mean I was born yesterday…there are all sorts unpleasant things you could do to a girl like me with my name—the boss told me so.”

I sighed as if defeated, “Well fiddlesticks; I was so sure that would work.”

I of course had barely a clue what “that” was, but she seemed more chatty when she thought she had the upper hand.

“Ha!” She preened, “Showed you Mr. Moron!  Setting such a pathetic ruse for the likes of me! I mean, what do you think I am?  Dumb or something?”

Oh dear god, that voice, that accent, that quote!  I couldn’t laugh, she’d catch it and the whole game would be ruined.  But it was so, damn, hard, not to!  I had to be sure it wasn’t on purpose, that she really was as “dumb” as she looked and the reference was accidental.  Wait a minute…

“Well you sure showed me…Lina,”

“Is…” She snapped, but before she could finish, her features softened, “Is that a nickname?”

“It’s a pet name,” I corrected, “a sign of endearment.  Since I can’t call you your real name I had to make something up.  Do like it?”

I could tell she did, even though she strove to hide it, “Ehh…it’ll do.”

YES! She had no idea I had just insulted her!  She wasn't in my head and didn't know any references to earth culture!  Discord dun goofed on this one.

“Excellent,” I smiled easily, “So then Lina, how do you propose I get that telescope-panel-thingy open?”

“How should I know?” She countered with a similar smile.

I frowned, “So this entire conversation to get on your good side was…”

“Yup, a waste of time Danny-boy.”

I was getting REALLY sick of everyone calling me that.  I stormed away from the mirror and back up to the panel.  What hadn’t I tried yet?

“What,” Lina began talking almost immediately, “So you’re just going to go back to doing the same thing over again?  Can’t you see it’s pointless?  I mean, if I didn’t know I had turned you into a pony, I would’ve thought you were half mule…”

And so on…for ten straight minutes the stupid thing jabbered on without stopping for breath or repeating herself.  My gosh, it was like R. Lee Ermy had been reincarnated as a New York valley girl with a vocabulary of stupid almost-swear words.  Meanwhile my heaving and hoeing and pounding wasn’t even budging the panels…a fact that “Lina” did not fail to comment on every chance she got.  That must be why Discord gave her a personality, to drive me absolutely insane!

“Good grief,” she continued, “What do they feed you where you come from?  I don’t think you have the strength to buck a door open.”

“Look,” I spun about to face her (well, her image in the mirror—you get the idea), “If you’re not going to say anything helpful, why don’t you just shut up and let me work?”

“I did tell you something helpful,” She countered, “Give up.  It’s your own stupid fault for not listening.”

Then a thought hit me, “Did you just say ‘buck’?”

There is a pause, “No” she said finally.

“You did…” I laughed, “My gosh, I’ve been doing this backwards!”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Just watch,” I lined myself up against the panels—facing away from them. I’d been thinking like a human.  Whenever I wanted to move something on Earth, I used my hands as bracers while my legs did the work.  That really doesn’t work so great when you’re horse shaped.  However there was one other way to apply force while shaped like this…Martial Arts movies don’t fail me now. 

“Kiai!!!”

I reared backwards and slammed my back hooves into the metal with all my might.  A thunderous clang rang out like a cookie sheet gong, which echoed around the room for a few moments before it died pitifully into silence.

“Ha!” She laughed, “Fat lot of good that di…”

The metal panel falls off its hinges with a resounding thunder, flooding the room with sunlight.

“You were saying?” I asked pleasantly

All I got out of her was a “Hmph!” and a very distinct sense that I was pointedly not being spoken to—it was the nicest feeling I’d had all day.

Finally I could get back to business.  I climbed up out through the hole and winced as my eyes adjusted to the early morning light.  But the instant they did I saw something that stopped me dead in my tracks.

From my perch atop the Palace of the Royal Pony Sisters I could indeed see then end of the forest…and Ponyville too if I wasn’t too far off.  But I could also see the farms and fields beyond Ponyville. The ordered trees of Sweet Apple Acres still flush with apple blossoms.  The dirt roads like snakes over the sweeping hills and dales.  The solitary houses and small hamlets that dotted the patchwork landscape of fields and orchards.  A winding set of rails, complete with a little train huffing and puffing its way up the mountains to the majestic city of Canterlot.  I could see it all, and I nearly wept at the sight of it.

It was beautiful.

I can’t explain it, not really.  The best I can do is a metaphor.  Think of a video game, one of those deliberately retro 2-D side-scrollers or fighting games made in the past couple years where all the power of the system’s engine has gone into making the prettiest characters and backgrounds it can muster.  It looks like you’re playing a painting, or a Disney movie.  Now imagine that artistry crafted on every leaf, every blade of grass, every rusty nail and every puff of smoke of one of those huge Warcraft style worlds, where every vista is reachable, every house is explorable and every NPC you meet has something fun to do for an hour or two.  Now imagine someone made a real place that pretty and that huge and had shown it to you just as the Sun had finished rising, and the reds and oranges of the dawn were fading to the clear blue of a glorious spring morning.  And imagine that you could tell that the sun was not there by chance—that someone had put it there just in case anypony was looking eastward this early in the morning and wanted to give them something spectacular.  That was my first real look at Equestria.

I found my mouth hanging open, trying every once in a while to form words but nothing more than a half-gasp to be heard.  I felt my knees trembling, but I didn’t care.  This was real, this was painfully gloriously real.

And some two-bit Q clone was trying to use me to wreck it.

I couldn’t let that happen.  I had to do something to stop Discord before even a single step of his escape plan came to pass.

“Hey,” I felt my unwoven coadjutor tap the side of my head, “You okay in there?”

“I can’t let it happen,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Discord is not touching this place,” I said.  My knees stopped shaking.  I climbed completely out onto the narrow ledge around the observatory dome. “I’d die first.”

I looked down…down down down to the courtyard below and resolutely took one step out onto open air.

“What the Tartarus are you doing?!?” I felt my entire frame freeze up like someone had replaced my skin with an iron shell.  

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I said through involuntarily clenched teeth, “I’m killing myself before your boss breaks loose and turns it purple for kicks and giggles.”

I could hear her incredulous expression, “You can’t just leap to your death!  We still have days and days to play together!”

“I don’t have time for games…I’m trying to die!” I said struggling against her chokehold on my skin, “Since when could you lock me dead like this anyway?”

“Since always,” She replied, “Heck, it’s half the reason I’m here…to clamp you down before you do something stupid like throwing yourself off a tall building!”

“Hey, if it’s stupid and it works…it ain’t stupid.” I snarled, “Besides, despite your piebald coat of paint, it’s still my body, I can do any stupid thing I please with it.”  I tensed every muscle I had forward and felt myself tip a little.

“No you can’t!” She shrieked, “I live here too now, you know.”

“Wrong again.” I lurched forward again for emphasis, this time rocking back a bit as well, “You may think yourself a tenant, “Lina”, but you’re nothing but a parasite—one I’d gladly destroy without hurting myself if I could…” Another lurch, I was starting to get a bit of momentum, “But since I’m killing myself anyway, taking you down with me is a pretty sweet bonus.”

Suddenly I felt her put all her force in front of me…stopping my momentum cold.  I pushed back at her with all I could, but a body divided against itself could not stand.

“I won’t let you do this,” She said, steel in her voice, “I’ve only just begun to live, and I…” she paused, “I don’t want to die.”

There is the briefest of instants when I feel sorry for her, but that instant passed with one last look into Celestia’s sun, that glorious glorious sun full of the benevolence of the princess behind it “Then maybe you should have thought of that before you turned me into a pony!”

I lurched forward again.  But this time I’m pushing slightly to the right…directly toward my upraised forehoof.  Since she was still pushing straight forward, she missed most of my force entirely.  I come down like a toppled figurine, slamming my thigh hard on the parapet.  But it was worth it.  The angle of my fall was just enough to put my center of gravity over the edge and suddenly I was falling.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!” my demon cried, but I barely noticed.  I was enjoying the wind, the slight whistling sound of the fall, the tumbling scenery.  As deaths went, this one wasn’t too shabby.  I could certainly think of worse anyway.

Goodbye Equestria, I hardly knew ye.

And screw you, Discord, I’m going home.

To Be Continued?

> In which our surprisingly alive hero makes a deal with a devil and fights a big bad shrub.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

	I opened my eyes to see the sun shining merrily overhead.  A few clouds drifted lazily by and the sound of birdsong punctuated the white noise of insect buzz.  It was still a nice day, just four hours or so after I had knocked myself off that tower.  I don’t remember actually hitting the ground, but considering I was flat on my back in a hole three feet deep, it must have been quite spectacular.

…Too bad it had FAILED MISERABLY!

I groaned and tried to sit up, all the muscles along my spine protesting vigorously and my arms not moving at all.  That was weird, my arms didn’t feel broken or anything, just constrained.  I turned my head to examine them but my nose hit earth before I even hit thirty degrees.

Oh brother…not this old gag.

I lifted my arms straight up and noticed they worked fine.  Another sit-up attempt brought me high enough to grab the edges of the hole and heave myself bodily out…of a hole shaped just like me.

I turned around to face the hole and the tower and thought.  How the bloody hell did I survive that?  When I fell on my hip it hurt like normal (and in fact it was still throbbing).  But after that fall, all I felt was a general “take a few laps around the track, you’ll be fine” sort of pain (gee thanks coach).  This was impossible, absurdly impossible…and yet here I was alive and whole.  The only thing I could do was put on my metaphorical Sherlock Holmes hat and assume that there was a rational explanation. I quickly narrowed it down to a few options.

1.  It was a random fluke of randomness and I got lucky.  I had heard at least one story of this same exact thing happening back on Earth (minus the whole crater thing) with the guy walking away from the fall and everything.  Theoretically this could have happened to me as well.  I dismissed this almost immediately—nopony was that lucky.

2.  Deus…er…Equia Regina ex Machina.  Celestia, or a being of similar power, had looked down upon my plight, decided this was not the way I ought to die and saved me.  Seeing as how the only being of that much power I knew around here was currently being crapped on by pigeons I found this explanation as unlikely as the first.

3.  I’m literally in a cartoon.  Pain here is governed by the rule of funny.  Nobody dies in this picture; they just get really big booboos.  So I can fall of cliffs and whatnot a la Wile E Coyote but still have to worry about random pokes and prods.  This was…plausible, dammit, especially when you consider the shape of the hole I made.  But there really wasn’t a good way of confirming that without involving things like anvils and TNT.  I would have to shelf this theory for later.

4.  There’s something I don’t know about “normal” ponies that explains all this.  If (and this is a very big “if”) the ponies are all one species like one would suspect, then the “normal” ones must therefore be capable of feats comparable to “flight” and “magic.”  This was admittedly grasping at straws, but the theory had the advantage of involving something I did not know and had no way of knowing as of yet.  Of course talking to the right folks in Ponyville could very easily prove me very very wrong, but for the moment it was one of my better ideas.

5.  My “unwoven coadjutor” (or whatever Lina was) did something to save me and therefore keep Discord’s plan running on schedule.  Also possible…and in fact the most likely.  I had no idea what all her tricks were and she certainly sounded fairly terrified of dying.  It would stand to reason that she could have slowed our descent enough to save us both.  Then again, that was an awfully big hole for a “slowed descent.”  But I liked this theory the best because it was the easiest to verify.

Observe.

“Oy, Lina!” I said standing up, “You awake back there?”

“Huh…wa” she sounded like she was waking up from a long nap, “we’re…alive?”Damn it.  She sounded just as surprised as I was.  There goes the convenient solution.

“Nope, we’re in hell and I’m just waiting for Pink and Blue to get here before we trek off to Candy Mountain.” I rolled my eyes, “YES we’re alive!

Much to my consternation she began laughing like Christmas had come early.

“I…I can’t believe it!” She exclaimed, “I thought we were goners!”

“So did I,” I grumbled, “Do you have any idea why we’re not?”

“Who cares!  YOU didn’t succeed, and we’re still here.  Life is awesome!”

I felt her hugging my neck.  It is kind of hard to be angry at someone that happy.  But I was willing to try anyway.

“Yes yes, I’m still here and Discord’s plot moves forward.  Everything is sunshine and roses.”  I started walking back towards the bridge.  Might as well go back to Plan A.

Her chuckles abruptly stopped, “Hold on a second.  The reason you almost killed yourself was because doing so would stop the boss?”

I paused, “Well yeah…wasn’t that the point of that whole presentation?  So long as I’m here, Discord can break free?”

That was met with another explosion of laughter—one loud and long and much more mean spirited.  I gave up waiting for her to stop and just started walking.  I was half way across the bridge before she was capable of words.

“Oh…my sides!” Lina gasped after a while, “You’re too much Danny-boy!”

“Charming,” I grumbled, “And just how am I “too much” exactly?”

“You think killing yourself will make a difference!” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Living or dead you’re still HERE, aren’t you?”

“Hold on,” I said, “What about all that malarkey about balance?  Don’t I need to be alive to affect it?”

“Well I suppose.” Lina said, “But that would only slow us down, not stop us.  We may talk about your charming personality, but honestly all we really want you for is your body.”

I dared not think about what that innuendo was implying, “And on that note I suggest we change the subject.”

“Good idea!  So tell me, what’s your favorite position?”

I winced, “Or we could just keep silent to avoid attracting predators…”

About forty-five degrees around the chasm from the bridge (or 315 if you’re being really picky) I found a path that looked to run in Ponyville’s general direction.  I walked along it carefully, eyes open, ears swiveling for the sound of predators.  But nothing I saw really scared me.  Sure the trees were still kinda creepy but after about fifteen minutes or so they lost my interest entirely.  I saw a few birds, heard a lot more, and spotted at least one fox and a couple rabbits, but that was about it.  Maybe all the scary stuff was nocturnal.

What wasn’t helping anything was Lina.  Despite her cranky demeanor she acted like a small child when experiencing anything new—which apparently included this entire forest.  She asked me the names of birds, what kinds of trees these were, why the leaves were green, what did the fox eat, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  I answered as best I could but the questions just kept coming.  After I realized she was just talking to talk I clammed up and shortly thereafter so did she.

Unfortunately I hit a snag.  I had overestimated the whole “couple laps around the track” thing and after an hour or so I was really feeling the pain.  Every joint ached and I swear I could hear them all creaking like rusty machinery.  I probably looked like an AT-AT walker about now…shaped like an animal but moved like a robot.  I should have found a stream and soaked my feet (and probably the rest of me) for an hour or so.  But daylight was a-wasting, and I had no desire to be in this forest after dark.  So onward I trudged, pain and Lina my constant companions.  Eventually I was barely “hobbling” much less “walking.”  But I didn’t want to stop.  The instant I stopped was the instant something leapt out and ate me.

“Come on Daniel…it’s just a little farther.”

Lina snickered, “So, talking to yourself now?  That’s not a good sign.”

I ignored her in favor of ‘intelligent’ conversation, “Just put one foot in front of the other and you’ll be there in no time.”

Heh…

I was suddenly reminded of a song from one of those old stop-motion Christmas specials.  You know, Rankin-Bass? Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? Burgermeister Meisterburger?  They’re Classics.  Go watch ‘em if you haven’t.  Anyways, twenty-something years of life without an ipod—most of which by choice—meant that if I wanted music, I’d better be able to make it myself.  And suddenly I had a hankering for some music.  So therefore…

”You put one, foot, in front of the other…” I began slowly, matching my hooves to the beat of the music in my head, ”And soon you’ll be walkin’ cross the flo-o-OR!

“What ARE you doing?”

“Imma singing,” I told her, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Well stop it!” She snapped, “It hurts.”

I wanted to be offended.  I’m pretty sure I could hold a tune in a bucket, and had in fact been complimented on my voice a couple times.  But then I realized that it wasn’t the quality of the singing that hurt her, but the fact that I was singing at all.

My grin grew Cheshire Cat wide, “Oh REAAALLY?”  I took a big breath.

“Don’t you dare!”

Too late.

“With CAT-LIKE TREAD!  UPON OUR PREY WE STEAL…In Silence Dread, Our Cautious Way We Feel”

“Oh Chaos whyyyyy?” Lina moaned like she had a hangover

”NO SOUND AT ALL!!  We never speak a word.  A fly’s foot-fall would be dis-tinct-ly heard!

“Okay! Okay, you’ve made your point!” Lina groaned, “Now shut up a moment, I thought I heard something.”

I stopped, and switched back into full paranoia mode, “Really?  Where?”

“Can’t tell, SOMEBODY was too damn loud.”

“Well excuse me for not sounding like one of those stupid weezy pop-singers.”

“Can it will you?” Lina whispered, “I think it’s onto us…”

If I had a lick of sense I would have bolted right there, but with my legs and especially my arms feeling like lead-bound rubber I was far more inclined to hope Lina was making crap up.  I couldn’t hear anything other than the usual forest noises, nor could I see anything other than the usual forest sights.  So whatever it was, it wasn’t something out of a D&D Manual…if it was anything at all.

“Lina, are you sure you’re not crying w…”

“GET DOWN!!” she shouted suddenly.

I was moving by the first syllable and kissing dirt by the second.  A brown shape sailed over me and landed near the opposite edge of the path.  I got to my feet in time to see it turn around and prepare for a second lunge.

Okay…now what the hell was it?

In layman’s terms it was a dog made out of wood.  If I was to get technical I would probably describe it either some sort of dryad/wood elemental thing or possibly a sentient moss that was animating a pile of old rotting logs through its mad sci-fi biology skillz.  However all I cared about right at that moment were a pair of glowing yellow eyes and a set of splintery wooden fangs, both of which faced me with signs of overpowering hunger.

Not as romantic a death as the high tower, but hey beggars can’t be chosers.

I got out of my “battle crouch” and closed my eyes…this was going to suck.

“What are you doing?  Don’t just stand there!” Lina, as always, interrupted my reverie.

I opened one eye, the wood-wolf was as confused as Lina was, “Why?  If it eats me, I won’t be HERE anymore will I?”

I felt my back get hotter, “That’s not how it works, and you know it!”

“Do I?” I snapped, “I just survived a bazillion foot fall to my death.  My definition of “how it works” got chucked out the window hours ago.”

“I…” she began, full of fire and self-righteousness, but then she stopped. “What do you want?”

“Beg pardon?”

“What,” she said like every word hurt her on the way out of her mouth, “do I have to give you, too stop trying to kill yourself and play ball like a nice pony?”

The wolf lunged.  Right in front of me.  Slow enough that I could dodge it.  So I did.  Either the predators here sucked or there was something wrong with this particular specimen.  I took another good look at it.  It looked old, desperate, the cunning in its eyes far outstripping the strength of its limbs. It got up shakily and started circling.  I followed it; keeping my guard up.  Just because Lina’s offer intrigued didn’t mean I shouldn’t keep my options open.

“No limitations?”

“I can’t leave, if that’s what you’re asking.” She said, “but I can do lots of other things and they are all up for grabs.”

“Oh are they?” I said, I took a step towards the…timber…wolf (ugh my HEAD, pun…too…terrible), and it flinched back a step.  It was scared of me.  But too hungry to leave.

“That’s right big guy.” She cooed, I felt a finger glide up the inner part of my thigh, “Anything. You. Want.”

“Excellent.” I purred, “I want infinite wishes.”

I felt her mood snap like a twig, “Oh Discord no!”

“You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate, sister.”

“Your life is NOT worth infinite wishes!”

Luckily, I’d seen this movie too, “A-ha! So my proposal is sound, all we have to do is settle on price.”

My back flared again, “Two wishes.”

“Five”

“Three” she said, “nice significant number.”

“Three wishes and three true answers.” I countered

A pause while she considered, “Fine…but make them before the end of today or you’ll lose whatever is left over.”

“Tomorrow, at midnight, today is nearly over.”

“Deal!”

“Deal.”

“Kick its ass, Brony!”

I returned my full attention to the wolf just in time to catch its third lunge—this one actually landing.  Sharp teeth sunk into my shoulder—high up, near my spine.  If that stupid thing was any healthier I’d probably be dead right now.  As it stands, I get a new entry in my ‘unpleasant experiences’ book (it was definitely less painful than “burned alive,” but several levels more than anything else I’d encountered).

Now normally this is where ANYONE ELSE caught in this kind of situation would casually mention “oh by the way, I’m a black belt in monkey kung-fu,” or “thank goodness my time in the Marines kept me in fighting shape,” or something like that.  But me, I don’t have any of that.  I have a one semester crash course in Aikido taught by the same guy that designed those stupid online teacher surveys for his department.  Okay yes, it’s more than some schlub who spends all his time playing video games would know.  But honestly, any badass Steven Seagal-esque moves I might have learned (that haven’t trickled out of my ears since) would be completely useless here and now, since A. I am no longer human shaped and B. My opponent is not human shaped either.  But I did recall one of the very basic pointy-end-goes-into-the-other-man type things the Sensei made sure to teach us.

Down.

It doesn’t matter who or what it is, you knock it off its feet and keep it there.  You win.  It’s how cheetah’s hunt, it’s how wrestling matches are decided and it’s how every single Aikido technique ends.  Down.  Accept no substitutes.

I screamed as it gnawed into my shoulder and my vision went red.  Biting me was going to be the LAST mistake this puppy ever made.  I reached up with my opposite hoof and pinned its foreclaw to my side.  Then I fell over.  Well more like, I jumped in the air and twisted so that when I landed it would be on some nice soft timber-wolf—and the timber-wolf would get a full grown pony landing on its leg, and possibly its head.  The wolf let go of my shoulder and tried to leap away, but it’s leg was still pinned…and now it was too late.  Down it went.

I heard a crunch like rotten wood snapping followed by an almost canine yelp of pain.  As I scrambled to my feet I noted the wolf’s one leg was now broken in several places and tree-sap-like fluid now oozed yellow out several obvious splinters.  I swallowed, trying to keep my gorge down.  Maybe this was why Aikido strove for non-violence, because real-life  wounds were not the awesome things tv made them out to be.

The wolf however barely noticed, the hunger in its eyes had been replaced by something new, something dangerous.  It knew it wasn’t going to make it out of this one.  Even if it ran away, the leg would never heal properly, and it would starve before it healed anyway.  I recognized that look, for I was wearing it not four hours ago—suicidal determination.  It was going to go down fighting…and it was going to try to take me with it.

I shifted into a fighting crouch, shoulder screaming all the while.  I was tired, I hurt, and I was pretty certain despite my “experience” and “intelligence” I wasn’t going to beat even this one old lone wolf.  But when my eyes met its, my expression said only one thing.

Bring it moss-ball.

The wolf charged.  Aiming for my legs—trying to hobble me just like I hobble it.  I reared.  It missed my forehooves by an inch but snaked through my back legs to avoid getting crushed.  My forehooves hit dirt and I lashed out with my rear set.  It ducked under my blow and caught my left hoof on the way down.  Its teeth dug into the tendons and I made a noise somewhere in between a scream and a roar.  I whirled on the thing, knocking it off its balance and pinned it to the ground with my bad hoof.  With my good one I stomped on it…again and again until the yellow glow left its eyes and its head could only be described as “a bloody pulp.”

I had won.

I suddenly really wished horses could retch.

“You…” Lina said breathlessly, “Are so hot right now.”

Oh god...she liked that.

“Don’t talk to me.” I growled, voice slightly deeper than usual.

“Is that what you wish Master?”

“NO!” I screamed, uncaring how I sounded, “Just…stop.  Please.  Let me find some water, get cleaned up…get my head on straight.  We can discuss your end of the bargain after that.”

Lina was thankfully silent as limped away from the corpse as fast as my maimed legs would carry me.

To Be Continued

> In which our shell-shocked hero asks a few  questions makes a wish and is kidnapped by griffons.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pond I found was the first not-picturesque thing I had seen in Equestria.  It was maybe eight inches deep, filled with muddy brown water and boasted an area roughly the size of a backyard pool.  Mosquitos, dragonflies, and amphibians of all shapes and sizes called this pond home; and I got the distinct sense that each and every one of them filled the glorified puddle with lovely things like offal, spunk, and scores of slime covered eggs.

But it still looked a damn sight cleaner than I felt.

I scrubbed at my bad shoulder, trying to wash the blood and ichor off.  Without soap, a sponge or even hands it was truly slow going.  But I needed to feel clean right then.  If that meant coating myself in elbow grease, then fine by me.

I had killed something.

I told myself it was technically a plant.  I told myself it was old and alone and desperate and if I hadn’t done anything it would have killed and eaten me without a second thought.  But all I could think about was the texture of its rotting hide as I punched through it with a fingernail the size of a clothes iron.  It was like smashing an old pumpkin.  That was what bothered me the most—how easy it was.

“Are you going to stand there moaning all day?” Lina asked.

I scrubbed at my shoulder more, trying very hard not to think about Lady Macbeth, “I’ll get moving once I get all the gunk off.  The last thing I need is for the wound to fester.”  That’s right tough guy, pretend nothing is wrong…maybe she’ll even buy it.

“Oh?  And washing it in this dirty puddle is going to help?”

“For my purposes?  Yes.”

“Jeez, if you’re so worried about infection, why don’t you just have me heal it for you?”

I blinked, “You can do that?”

“Sure, easy as pie.” She replied, voice oddly earnest. “I’m not just some cloak you’re wearing; I’m part of you now.  True I have my own personality and goals, but since my being is naturally amorphous, yours now is too.  If you wish it I can do anything from heal you to change your gender to give you wings and a horn.  Heck, I could make you look like Discord himself if you really wanted to.”

I heard a small ding in the back of my head, like someone completing a task on a game show.  Lina giggled, “Ah, that feels better.”

My eyes widened, “God damn it!  That was one of my True Answers, wasn’t…” I clapped a hoof over my mouth before I could complete the question.

Lina cackled like an old hag.  I could imagine her pointing a finger at me while doing so.  I scooped up some more water and poured it on my shoulder.  It hurt, but some things should.  What shouldn’t hurt was Lina’s laughter.  And yet she was getting to me.  I felt cheated out of what I had rightfully strong-armed and my psyche demanded petty revenge.

“Point of clarification,” I growled.  If she thought she could just get away with a fast one like that she was sorely mistaken. “You said “if I wish it,” implying that I would have to use a wish to get you to use your powers.  However your explanation indicates that you had these powers even before we made our deal.  What would occur if I requested something without these wishes owed?”

By now the water had settled enough that I could make out my reflection in its surface, and also Lina’s.  She stared back at me, her head on top of mine, hands folded beneath her chin, scowling.  I noted that she now had several glowing white bands about her arms and legs…five of them to be exact.  They looked heavy and solid—like manacles without chains.  Kinky.

“We would make out a new deal, only this time you would owe favors and not me.” She said, voice cold, “Now hurry up and make some wishes…these things itch.”

I thought about that for a minute.  Lina was a lot stronger than I had first assumed.  This was classic deal-with-the-devil stuff I was playing with here and if I wasn’t careful I would be the one in chains.  However I wasn’t exactly awash with allies at the moment, and I would be a fool to ignore that kind of power out of hand.  My banked wishes would keep me safe for at least a little while, so I should probably make use of the opportunity while I had it (and before Lina weaseled it out from under me).

I decided to start with the questions…since talking to Lina without asking questions was a pain in the ass.  Now, all I needed to do was figure out what two things I most wanted to know in the whole wide world.  No pressure right?  Okay, to review I am stuck in a mystical fantasy land with an all-powerful god intent on turning said land into a Salvador Dali painting.  That is bad and I wish to stop it.  However it has been implied that in the very act trying to stop him, I move his plans forward. But…Lina has also freely admitted that my efforts to remove myself from the equation, while irritating, only hinder the plan slightly.  That was a very obnoxious catch-22 but at this moment I was powerless to do anything about it.  Well, except  to learn more about the plan so that I could take conscious steps to oppose it.

“Lina.” I began, “I invoke my second True Answer.  What is Discord’s plan to break free?”

Her scowl slowly turned into a big Grinch-like smile, “I have no idea!”

“Oh COME ON!” I bellowed at the water, “At least give me something!”

“Too bad, so sad.” Lina laughed, “There goes another…” she paused and looked at her manacles, all of which remained locked in place “Oh COME ON!” she yelled skyward.

I had to laugh.

“It’s NOT funny.”

“I disagree,” I said through the chuckles, “you give me a non-answer, the universe gives you a non-reward.  Sounds fair to me.”

“But I answered your question!  Why didn’t it count?”

“Well maybe, your answer wasn’t true.” I replied, “You must know something about the plan, who it involves, where it’s going to happen, how long it will take…”

“Wait wait!” Lina said like an idea bulb struggling to light, “As the boss was shaping the dreamscape I heard him muttering to himself.

“What did he say?”

“Mostly he was complaining about the dreamscape itself.  Too dark, too few colors…things like that.  But as he was hanging the bat-signal I remember him say, “come next spring I won’t have to worry about these problems anymore.” I didn’t think much of it until just now.”

I thought about that for a minute, “So…I have a year.”

“Give or take.” She nodded, “Does that help?”

A year.  That’s twelve months, 365 days or even 524, 600 minutes if you like musicals.  Enough time to meet someone and fall in love, enough time to turn your life around from rock bottom, enough time to declare and fulfill an elaborate revenge plot.  In that kind of time there was no telling what I could do if I put my mind to it.

“It does, yes…” I replied, feeling tension leave my shoulders, “Thank you.”

I heard a ding as one of the manacles snapped open and fell off her wrist—vanishing into the aether as it went.  She sighed in contentment. “Two down, one question and three wishes to go.  What’ll it be chief?”

I opened my mouth to reply but quickly remembered I hadn’t thought of a final question.  This was the last one so it had better be a doozy.  I started pacing.  It’s a bad habit I know, but it helps me think and it passes time so I’m not apologizing for it.

Unfortunately the operative word here was started.  The instant I put weight on my bad leg a lightning bolt of pain lanced up my spine and I nearly toppled over in the pond as a result.  Damn that timber-wolf.  Suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about stomping its brains out.

Once the flashing lights stopped I turned my gaze back to the water, which still rippled in the aftermath of me sloshing around in agony. “I suddenly think it might be a good idea to switch gears.  Lina, would you be so kind as to heal me?”

“Is this what you wish, master?”

Drat, I was hoping to sleaze a freebie out of her.  Oh well, it was worth a shot, “Yes Lina, that is what I wish.”

“Great!” Lina exclaimed, and I heard the sound of cracking knuckles, “Just sit back, and relax, big guy.  I’ll have you back to one-hundred percent in no time.”

I felt her shift on my back, a sort of rolling massage-like pressure rather than the skittering sensation from before.  I felt her magic pool deep in my tissues and overflow out onto my skin…aching sublimely like love and possibly several substances that were illegal without a prescription.  I felt the pain in my forehoof wane and wane until it was gone altogether.  I felt the gash in my shoulder seal and pressures built up there release into nothingness.  I would have been eternally happy with just that, but Lina didn’t stop there.  I felt pains leave I didn’t even know I had…the kind that just sort of build up as you live.  A cavity I had learned to ignore, joints threatening to go bad, toxins in the bloodstream and the digestive system, problems with my corneas, all slowly and languidly vanished in the waves of healing euphoria.

All too soon it was over and I found myself still standing in a muddy pool, now stinking to high heaven from whatever gunk Lina had sweated out of my system.  I was still exhausted, but now it was the good kind…like I had run a marathon, or put in a hard day’s work at a job I liked.  I climbed out of the water and stretched like a cat, letting out a satisfied groan as I did so.

“Was it good for you?” Lina purred in my ear.

“Baby,” I breathed, “If you handed me a cigarette right now, I’d smoke it.”

She laughed huskily, “Funny, but after clearing out all that gunk in your lungs I’d prefer you found some other way to express your satisfaction.”

“What gunk in my lungs?”

“Tar, dust, several chemicals I’ve never seen before…wherever you live has a lot of gross stuff in the air.” She snarked, “If you really want to thank me, just stick to the usual flowers, chocolates, and cunnilingus.  Trust me, we’ll all be happier for it.”

I’m not sure if I was just getting used to her lewd humor or still high as a kite from whatever she did to me but I found myself laughing at that.  “Well get yourself an actual body and we’ll talk.”

I started walking toward Ponyville again, noting the ease with which each step was coming.  I felt like I could run all day, dance all night and still feel better than I ever did back home.

I turned my head to look at the brown splotch on my back, “Seriously Lina, thank you.  You went above and beyond the call of duty there.  And I appreciate it, a lot”

Lina didn’t answer right away, but when she did her voice was quiet and introspective, “It wasn’t anything special, mostly just a metabolism speed up and a lot of endorphins.  There’s going to be a nasty backlash when you actually go to sleep tonight, so just try and make sure you’re somewhere comfortable or you’re going to start hating me again once you wake up.”

I blinked.  She didn’t have to tell me that.  In fact I was willing to put money down saying my not-knowing that would probably have screwed me over sometime soon, and she would have reaped the benefit.  So why tell me?

I probably would have pondered that question all the way to Ponyville but it was about then that we ran into the griffon.

I kid you not, a genuine eagle-head-wings-and-talons-on-a-lion’s-body griffon, sitting at the base of a tree doing…well, things people usually do on trees a little bit out from the path far away from civilization.  The fact that I was coming toward the path from the opposite direction meant I got an eyeful of something I STILL don’t even want to think about…and one freaked out griffon.

She keeled like a big red tailed hawk, ”eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Which of course got me screaming, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

”eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“AAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

You get the idea.

The griffon snapped to action first and leaped at me with a snarl.  I reared and tried to block with my hands before I remembered I didn’t have any hands.  And now I was off balance and a big fat target.  Her lunge ended up flipping completely onto my back, talons at my throat, and the fight ended before it had even really begun—so much for Daniel Travers, slayer of monsters.

“Kaer fdl abei puoy uo yeratre vre pfo, din klleheh ttahw!” She shrieked in my ear, and I felt something cold hit the pit of my stomach.

I couldn’t understand her…I couldn’t understand her at all.  All this time I’d been operating under the assumption that everyone spoke English here, just like in the show.  It shouldn’t have surprised me as badly as it did—this was another world not just some theme park on earth.  But wait, Discord spoke English, so did Lina for that matter, why didn’t the griffon?

Maybe because one’s a nigh omnipotent reality warper and the other’s a voice in your head.  I kicked myself for not thinking of it sooner

”Tihspi de, mrewsna!” the griffon pressed, “Se n itse tninwor uoy htiw uoye lgn artslliwiro.”

“I’m sorry!” I screamed, “I didn’t know anyone was here!”

The griffon cocked her head to one side, still angry but now confused, “Taht sa Gaius’ wega ugna lf odnikema nni tahw?”

“I swear, I didn’t want to see that either.” I continued, trying not to sound terrified, “Please don’t kill me.”

Her grip around my throat loosened and she poked me in the chest, “Regna rts mor fouy, eraerehw?”

Wait, what was going on?  What did she want?

“What?” I squeaked out.

“Ni niar tseuqe kaepsyeht od ‘what’?”

Before I could answer another voice shouted through the woods, this one male but just as incomprehensible, ”Gilda! Gnit uo hseh tll aht iwsitahw?”

The griffon turned and shouted back, “Ssip agnik atsawie lihw emotnide lbmu ts ynopn g ier ofdrie w emos.”

”Tih ctacu oy?” the other one pressed, ”Ev il allit stisi?”

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.  I was never going to get anywhere with these…things, if I couldn’t understand a word they were saying.  Which meant that I needed a good translator, a pocket dictionary and five or six years of peace to really absorb the language, or a really good shortcut.  Guess which one I had handy.

Oh Lina… I thought, putting a little singsong tone into it as I did so. 

Dude! Lina snapped in the recesses of my mind, She’s practically mounting you!  Why do you want to talk to me now!”

I mentally groan (and force down the inevitable “cannot unsee” image), ”Drop the sex-maniac shtick and focus.  Can you make me understand her?”

Heh, no way.  You know the joke, I could build a bridge to the Gallopagos easier than I could make you understand women.

Ugh…I meant, can you make it so I can understand her language.

Ohhhhh, I see.  Yeah, I can imagine why you’d want that.

Urge to kill, rising, But can you do it?

Sure, easy as cake.  Just say the magic words and we’re good to go.

A second griffon lopped into view, apparently running from wherever he was before.  He was bigger and slightly darker than my captor but otherwise followed the same general pattern.

“Tisis ihtk ni ht Gilda? the new griffon asked, “Yse hpo rp senod erra cse htmorfh tra’e fonameht?”

“Gilda”—I can only guess that’s her name, shrugged, Nw otmo, rfs i ehk’n ihttn od it ubeu lcon.  S’i htekilgn i rol-ocem altonare bmem erdi.

I got the distinct impression I was missing something important.  I sighed, Fine…Lina, I wish to speak and understand any and all languages that exist or could possibly exist on the Equestrian continent as close to immediately as you can manage.

I could hear the irritation in her voice, You’re a dirty rotten cheater, did you know that?

Flattery will get you nowhere sweetheart

Ha ha...grit your teeth and hang on tight smartass, because this is going to suck

I clamped my mouth down hard just as the worst headache I have ever had impaled me like an icepick right between the eyes.  I suddenly found myself seeing white as Lina scoured the corners of my mind with a wire-bristled pipe cleaner and shoved something that felt like a drill bit in the space that remained.  It hurt, a lot.  By the time it was done, all I could think was one thing.

Lina.  What. Did. You. Do?

Didn’t care for that one much did you? she purred, Well serves you right for getting clever with you wishes…I had to really clean house to get you all that.

Wait, what?

She sighed, You know that thing about you using only ten percent of your brain?

Yeah…

Well it’s a damn lie is what it is.  You use all of your brain, just not all of it at once.  Every bit of space is important.  So to stick that complex a translator into your head, I had to take something out.  And that tends to sting a bit.

My eyes widened, That was NOT part of the wish you little…

Oh shove your righteous tirade up your glory hole Danny-boy.  I didn’t erase anything important.  You’ve still got all your personal memories, you’ve still got all your knowledge, you speak a pile more languages than when you got up this morning…and you don’t have all that stupid Pokemon nonsense cluttering up your thought processes.  You should be thanking me.

I felt my heart shift in my chest, You…wiped my memory of Pokemon?

Yeah, you had about five or six YEARS worth of trivia stored in that noggin of yours.  Facts, figures, data, statistics.  All for some video game—whatever that is.  Trust me on this, you’re better off without it.

Oh God, I could feel it now.  It was like missing a limb or something.  All that time coming up with the best team imaginable, all those conversations with friends and hours poring over strategy guides, all those mornings I had woken up early just to watch the anime…gone.  Hell, I couldn’t even remember the theme song.

Lina was going to pay for this…she was going to pay dearly.

I snarled and shoved her away from the forefront of my consciousness and returned to my regularly scheduled conversation, already in progress.  Opening my eyes I found everything going at matrix-speed.  The male griffon’s mouth open mid-shout as the female griffon’s paw crawled forward toward my muzzle for a back-handed slap—her face etched with concern.

Lina…what the hell is this?

Oopsy, forgot to take you off brain-speed, hang on.

I felt a switch click in my head and things returned to normal just in time for a bitch-slap by a griffon.

“Wake up, stupid!” she shouted as she swatted me again…vaudeville style rapid slaps, not psychologist and restraining order abuse.

I groaned and tried to block her claws with my hoofs.

“He’s okay!” she crowed and her buddy sighed in relief.

That was odd, she sounded like she was speaking English.  Whatever babelfish-type thing Lina shoved into my mind seemed to have done the trick.  The griffon had a low alto-ish voice with a biker chick grizzle to it.  She sounded like a fun gal to get in a bar fight with—not against of course, but on the same side as her might be worth the hospital bill.

“Thank Gaius,” The male griffon sneered.  His voice reminded me of a Klingon’s, all arrogance and badly suppressed violence.  “If Julius found out you broke the very thing he sent you out to find...”

“Yeah yeah,” Gilda snorted, “boiled in oil and fed to the troops deep fried.  Can we tie him up now?  This is getting awkward.”

I thought fast.  These two were apparently looking for me…or something like me.  Which meant they somehow knew I would be coming, which meant badguys.  Therefore I would NOT be going with them under any circumstance and therefore needed to escape before Male-Klingon-griffon-dude tied me up and I lost the ability to run the heck away.  Now violence was an option, but I was pretty certain anything less than a lethal amount of it would be an exercise in futility.  I wasn’t prepared for killing two more sapient creatures right now (and, you know, they’d probably win).  So plan B.  I needed to convince them I was not the droid they were looking for and I needed to do it fast.

I needed to lie.

“I say,” I began in a bad British accent, “when cousin Pinkie told me this place was full of wild animals, I certainly wasn’t expecting this sort.”

Both griffons looked at me a little dumb-founded

Oh please let them buy it…

“I mean,” I continued, “interspecies congress, male-male-female-threesomes, ropes…throw in the saddle and the riding crop and it’s like a weekend back home!”

The female griffon blushed straight through her feathers and leaped right off me.  Lina started laughing hysterically forcing me to tune her out as best I could.

The male griffon recovered faster, “You…speak Equestrian?”

I rolled over and got up, brushing some dirt from my coat as I did so, “Fluently, old boy, no thanks to the school system back home…bloody awful stuff, mired in red tape and no money whatsoever.  If it wasn’t for cousin Pinkie and that scholarship I’d barely squeak by with ‘where is little colts room?’” I laughed like I was among friends, instead of pulling the stupidest Bugs Bunny bullshit I’d ever conceived, “Speaking of which, dreadfully sorry miss, sneaking up on you like that.  Got myself a bit turned around don’t you know…they really should put up more signs.”

Gilda shook herself and tried to press forward with the conversation, “Don’t mention it.  Seriously, don’t mention it.”

Male griffon took this opportunity to cuff Gilda upside the head…psychologist and restraining order style, “You stupid hen!” he screamed, “You told me he spoke nothing but gibberish!”

My eyes widened in shock.  He really just did that…right in front of me.  What kind of sick moron does that?

“He did!” Gilda keeled, “I asked him simple questions and he garbled out something that sounded like he was speaking backwards!”

I know I should have just let this stand, but I didn’t really want Gilda getting punished on my account, “Ah…if I may interject.” I said, “I was rather frightened out of my gourd…slipped into the old country vernacular.  You know how it goes.”

Both griffons looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head.

The male griffon narrowed his eyes, “What did you say your name was again?”

Me and my big mouth.  “Oh…um…” crap crap crap…okay, what did I say?  Cousin Pinkie right?  If she’s anything like the Apple family that would probably make me some kind of Pie…what kind what kind...strawberry?  No.  Blueberry, Rhubarb, Shepard’s, Mince, Kidney…no no no NO!  Come on THINK Daniel, he’s getting suspicious…what am I, what am I…what could you guess my name was just by looking at me?  Two-toned, pinto…

“Well?” The griffon bellowed.

“PIE-BALD!” I blurted out, jumping at his tone.

I had to blink a few times…that could actually work, “Erm…yes, Piebald.  My name is Piebald.  A pleasure to meet both of you.”

I held out my right forehoof, as if for a handshake.

Hey, stupid! Lina laughed, They don’t shake hands here!

I pressed forward with my funny foreign greeting.

The Griffons looked down it, then to each other, “Sounds about right,” Gilda said, “All those ponies have weird names like that.”

Klingon-griffon snorted, “So, all we have here is a simple pony, lost in the deep dark woods where he should know not to roam…a shame.”

He fished around his midsection and withdrew a big ugly knife of the “sacrifice him to Tezcatlipoca” variety.

I felt the blood drain from my face. “I say…” I gulped, backing away from the sight “What do you intend to do with that, old chap?”

I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count… Lina mused.

“You are not the one we seek,” Klingon-Griffon replied, lazily stalking forward, “Therefore you are an intruder who has seen too much and whose corpse shall serve to keep the townsfolk away.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.  What the hell kind of girls’ cartoon was this?  I felt my rump hit a tree and my hoofs get tangled in the roots.  There was nowhere to run without doing something drastic and getting-stabbed-anyway worthy.

The griffon smiled the smile of a predator, “Nothing personal “old chap” just good strategy.  Gilda, hold him down.”

I whirled toward Gilda, keeping Klingon-guy in my line of vision, trying to think of a way to beat two sapient hybrid predators with nothing but four hooves and two brains (one of which probably wouldn’t cooperate).  But something stopped me from just acting on frantic fearful instinct…Gilda’s face.

The smaller griffon’s eyes were wide in shock, like the order surprised her as much as it did me.  She looked over at her boss, and then back to me…and in that moment I saw a way out.  Deep down, this griffon didn’t want kill anyone.  And if I was a deceitful tricksy conniving bastard (which was looking like a pretty good thing to be right at this moment) I could exploit that.

My eyes widened and lowered my head in pathetic subservience.  Please don’t kill me that look said.

Gilda gulped quietly and turned back to face her commander, her expression shifting back to the one of lazy contempt she’d worn most of the conversation.  Jackpot.  “Really boss?  Kill a pony for walking down the wrong road at the wrong time?”

Klingon-Griffon gave Gilda a very hard look.  Gilda suddenly looked less sure of herself, “I mean, I don’t like the lame-os any more than you do.  But that doesn’t mean I want to kill all of them.”

Klingon-Griffon snapped, the veneer of genial villainy cracking like glass and revealing the raw brutal animal he was inside, “I gave you an order, soldier!” he roared, raising his blade toward her “Now obey or my knife drinks of two this day.”

Gilda shuddered back at his anger, her resolution cracking as well, “Yes sir.” She said at last.  The biker chick attitude long gone and only a young woman in an ugly situation remained.

She took a few steps toward me, the talons of one foreleg outstretched, "I’m sorry,” she whispered.

And there it was; my opening.

“So am I,” I murmured in my normal voice, just before I kicked her in the chest.

Unbalanced as she was, on three legs and expecting a meek little ponyvillian, she was caught completely off guard by the full blown two-hoofed buck and went flying.  Right into Klingon Griffon.  They both went down in a tangle of limbs, and I took those precious few moments to run the hell away.

From somewhere behind me, I heard the two creatures scrambling to get on their feet and Klingon-Griffon shouting, “After him you fool!”  And the chase was on.

For the record, running as a horse is a bit trickier than running as a human.  How fast you want to go changes what hooves go down when.  And running as fast as you can in the middle of a forest is a very good way to trip and die even without dangerous predators chasing you.  Honestly the only thing saving my bacon was the fact that I had better balance as a quadruped, and was far more worried about impending griffons than I was concerned about how my feet worked.  I just fixed the classic “gallop” sound in my head and moved my hooves accordingly.  It must have worked because the terrain began to fly by at car speeds.

I ducked and swerved around trees and under branches, trying my darnedest to put obstacles between them and me.  However I had to keep at least one eye on the path.  One pony might not be able to beat two griffons in a fight…but a whole bunch of ponies certainly could.  Salvation, therefore, lie in Ponyville.  And if I got lost, I might as well have stopped running and let the griffons kill me quickly.  Waitaminute, where were they?

I risked a glance behind me.  Sure enough, the pair were hot on my heels, but something was amiss…those sweet birdy forefeet weren’t so great at tearing up the ground and all the low hanging branches really kinda barred any sort of flight.  So instead of mighty hunters of grace and beauty, the griffons loped after me in a kind of clumsy shuffle halfway between a big cat and an ape running.

I however was a horse, and was, therefore, winning.

Everything worked the way it ought to.  Lungs took in crisp clean air that transferred energy to the bloodstream that allowed the massive pony heart to send gobs of energy through powerful limbs and down to heavy hooves that connected with the earth like bolts of thunder.  Terrain flew by in green-brown blurs and the wind I generated blew my mane and tail back like flags in a storm.  And for a moment, a great and glorious moment, I wasn’t running for my life.  I was running for the sheer joy of life.  Sure my death galumphed behind me, but before me hope glistened like the sunlight seeping through the edge of the forest.

And then some great big schnozwanger had to go and crush all my good feelings flat.

There I was, running a bazillion miles an hour, when big bat-like shadow descended from the canopy like an anvil.  I should have seen it coming, I really should have. Why should I assume there were only two hostile griffons in the forest when three hostile griffons were just as likely?  And why should I assume that they’re just going to chase me on my terms when herding me toward an ambush works every so much better?  Of course all I could think at the time was a series of expletives as my face met the dirt once again and a big black fuzzy weight pressed me rest of me flat as well.  But in hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did.

“Pony not struggle or Cobalt kill.” A voice garbled through a mouth full of fangs.  My eyes fluttered open and I looked up to see something that was simultaneously the funniest and most terrifying thing I had run into since I got here.

A flying monkey.

I just got caught by a goddamn flying monkey.

Of course it wasn’t a cute little spider monkey with pigeon wings on its back and a little fez on its head, nooo… that would be too easy.  I got the version made with a mandrill baboon and a bat the size of a hang glider.  I got the version with glowing eyes and snarling jaws and too much intelligence to call it an animal, but not enough to actually call it sane.  In short I got the flying monkey from the rated R action flick version of Oz…or possibly the horror movie version.

I made it a point not to struggle.

The griffon-griffons arrived a moment later, both short of breath.  “Good job, Cobalt.” Klingon-griffon said between pants, “Now finish him before he gets away again.”

The monkey thing looked down at me, skin on its muzzle flaring as its fangs parted.  I winced, shutting my eyes as I waited for the fall of the guillotine. 

But it never came, instead all I heard was a sharp intake of air.  And another.  I opened an eye to see the bat-monkey sniffing at me with the deliberation of a Ringwraith.  He—Colbalt I suppose—snorted, and then looked back up at his commander. “Him stink,” he said bluntly.

“So?”

“So, not normal stink.” Cobalt snarled, “Him stink of rust and swamp gas.  Him not from forest.”

“Of course he’s not from the forest,” Klingon-Griffon replied, “there’s a town just beyond the borders, you ignoramus.  Now obey your commanding officer or I’ll...”

“Him not from town either.” Cobalt spat back, “Him from other place.  Place Cobalt never smelled.”

Oh crap…

“Cobalt think this Man of Earth.” The monkey said with the surety that only animal instinct could produce.

The two griffons blinked.  And for that matter, so did I.

“Wait,” I said, “Man of Earth?”

Okay, that was a little too close to home for my comfort.

Gilda’s eyes lit up, “Well…that would explain why he showed up speaking in tongues.” She said tentatively.

“But not why he suddenly spoke Equestrian a moment later,” Klingon-boy retorted, “Making the pony’s own explanation the most likely.  When you hear hoofbeats, think ponies—not zebra.  That’s what I always say.”

“Since when?” Gilda snarked.

“Him not smell like pony.” Cobalt insisted, “So I take to Julius…”

He shifted his weight but kept me pretty well bound in chimp-like hind feet (goddammit, if there were so many thumbs around here, why couldn’t I have a set?) and started heading toward the nearest tree—me in tow.

Male Griffon sputtered and made one last effort toward even a semblance of control over the monkey, “How dare you disobey a direct order from your commanding officer!  I’ll have your hide for this!”

The monkey’s bat-clawed hands hauled his bulk (and mine) up the tree with no difficulty, and no hesitation.  “Cobalt make sure.  Take to Julius.  If Julius say him Man of Earth, Julius reward Cobalt.  If him not, then Cobalt kill.”

Well I couldn’t argue with that logic.  Apparently the monkey was smart enough to know when things are over his paygrade…which I suppose made him the smartest one there.

Cobalt leapt from the tree and started gliding, to where ever this “Julius” was.  The funny thing is, we were gaining height despite the monkey’s less that aerodynamic shape.  I guess the physics of this world were set on “it’s just a show, I should relax” when it came to flight.

You’re being awfully calm about this.  Lina’s voice mused in my ear.

I sighed, They got me…not much I can do about it now, except relax and start plotting my escape.

Gilda and her friend shortly joined us in the air.  The cranky one shouting up a Yosemite Sam sized storm of almost swears in Cobalt’s direction.  Gilda meanwhile was quietly flying behind her superior—rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness.  We never rose far enough above the treetops for me to get my bearings (dammit), just enough for me to get thwacked by a high branch or two every so often.

thwack!

*Ouch.*

Like so.

So…how’re ya going to escape? Lina asked me,  Tickle him until he drops you?

And do my Wile E. Coyote impression a second time today? *Ouch.*  I don’t think so.  Heck, I’m still not sure how we survived the first time.   Besides, *ouch*, these griffons seem to know an awful lot about a guy who just fell into their world today…I think I’d like to know how they did that.

*Ouch*.

Damn it.

“Do you have to hit every single one?” I shouted at the monkey.

Cobalt ignored me and actually lowered into the canopy.

“Ah!  Okay, I ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you!”

Cobalt didn’t care and kept sinking.

The trees however completely gave way to empty air—all but the most obvious branches having been clipped away from a landing path long before I arrived.

It was a false top—a smoke screen to keep any overhead pegasi from asking questions.

Beneath those precious few branches were nests.  Not the bowl shaped nests everyone thinks of but the round beehive style nests that certain birds make…but these were as big as tents and put together with a craftsman’s touch.  They hung ten or fifteen to a tree, all the way down the trunk like Christmas ornaments, and jostled with activity from within.

And there were griffons everywhere.

The area was littered with them.  Some perched in the trees, some marching in groups, some fighting with bare claws, others with spears and swords and still others patrolled makeshift walls and towers bows in hand.  They didn’t even all look the same.  Sure the Lion-and-Eagle was the most common, but I saw whole squads of the flying monkey types, four-winged reindeer, and even a couple of things that could only be described as “owlbears”  But despite the chaos of the form and function each and every…thing here moved with a lockstep precision that meant iron fisted order and a metric ton of training.  And even as Cobalt neared the landing strip the sheer magnitude of what I was looking at hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

An army.

I was looking at an army.