> The Lair of the Dead > by God-Of-Toasters > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Searching for Sanity > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bronze Tusk journied on for miles upon miles, searching for sanity. He passed lonely monasteries radiating with arcane energy, he passed caves writhing with ungodly figures, he passed magnificent palaces shooting bolts of pure magic at each other. All this didn’t concern him, as Bronze Tusk blazed on ahead. The day was getting older and older with every step and Tusk was getting closer and closer to giving up. As he slumped onwards, he caught sight of a humble little village. Thinking nothing of it at the time, Bronze Tusk checked into a sleepy tavern overlooking the sleepy town. After a few ciders and a meal of flaming grass, Bronze Tusk retired to his room. Fittingly enough, it overlooked an Ancestral Field, a place of the dead Earth Ponies to finally slumber in peace, protected by magnificent earthworks reaching into the sky. As the sun leisurely descended, and the moon shot up in the sky for a split second before falling, Bronze hit the hay, dreaming of the Grassy Lands, where the Alicorns escaped the horrors of Hippoborea. Bronze Tusk awoke in a temple to the gods of panic. The rest of the inn was smashed to smithereens leaving only him and his bed amidst a heap of rubble. The Ancestral Field was rife with holes and the whole town (All 200 of them) was running about, declaring sorcery and blaming each other. As Tusk took all of this in, an equine figure jumped on him beating him to pieces. As soon as he grasped what was going on, Bronze Tusk got up, and with a quick swipe, decapitated the being. As it hit the ground with a thump, Tusk noticed it was definitely a pony, or at least it used to be. Its skin was a purple marred by dust and it seemed to have a marking cutting down its face that was eventually sealed up. There was no blood surrounding it, nor did there seem to be any blood inside it. Bronze Tusk stared off in the distance, only seeing carnage and hate, smashed the head under his iron hooves and ran off towards the chief’s house. > The Lair of the Chief > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The chief’s house was, to say the least, a splendor in the rubble. It was made of pure wood from the groves of St’aälion, breathing dazzling energy and life. At the top was a large dome, being savaged by the equine figures. Chased by hundreds of former ponies, Bronze Tusk ran into the majestic building and shut the door. Inside was as pastel colored as the ponies that have inhabited the world. Hidden in all of these colors were strange scribbilings, possibly a language, but indeterminate. In the center of all this was a throne. Its figure gracefully looped around the dome, directly in front of a mural detailing the Alicorn princess Feoirnifaern, the Mistress of Existence. There sat the chief, an olden Earth Pony, beard thick as blood, grinning and conniving. “What is it my child?” Asked the chief. Bronze Tusk grumbled, pointing to the door, which was in the process of being destroyed. “Oh right, the revenants! I forgot about those!” Said the chief, “We wouldn’t want to break the oath now, would we?” Bronze Tusk took his sword out of his mouth to ask about what in the many realms of Tartarus this oath was. But before he could utter a syllable, the chief grabbed a ceremonial dagger and charged Bronze Tusk with full force. Bronze Tusk mumbled an esoteric swear and parried. He didn’t last for long, and was pinned to the ground by the great veteran. “Allow me to introduce myself” said the chief, “My name is Chief Exposition. I could just kill you now to get my plan over and done with, but due to a serious medical condition, I have to explain my plan first.” Bronze Tusk muttered another swear from ages past, as Chief Exposition rambled on. “You must have been called by some sort of prince or princess long ago. Well, I was called by my loyal Feoirnifaern, Mistress of Existence. She sent me long, droning messages about how I should sacrifice half of my town and she would repay me with nookie.” Bronze Tusk reached for his sword silently. He decided to humor Chief Exposition a bit, after all, he may explain something about what was going on. “But then for some reasons, the people I slaughtered came back with a vengeance. I don’t think it was a bad thing though, I didn’t like my residents anyways. Unfortunately, my babe hasn’t come yet. Maybe through some sort of mystical occurrence, she’ll appear so I can bone her. You know, guy stuff.” As soon as Chief Exposition mumbled these words, the ceiling burst open. Above the two Earth Ponies hovered an enormous palace. It was pure gold and encrusted with jewels of all shapes and sizes. There were balconies holding gardens of most exotic flora and fauna, sculptures of chimeras, centaurs and manticores, symbols of the other gods, truly a summation of all things living. The equine forms shuddered in fear as this flying palace descended. Out of this magnificence stepped an Alicorn. She was a light pink, and around her were animals of all shapes and sizes. Chief Exposition squealed in delight as he ran towards the princess. “Hey babe,” Chief Exposition flirted, “What’s a pretty lady like you doing in a town like this?” The Mistress of Existence bellowed a piercing scream. Her eyes turned an iridescent teal as she turned to the Chief and stared at him for a solid minute. She slowly wrapped around Chief Exposition and proceeded to bite his head off. “This is what I get for following the rules of an ancient god! I remember when I was young, they said that I was going to –” The Chief screamed as his neck tore off from the rest of his body. Feoirnifaern smiled as she feasted upon his head, spitting out the odd helmet piece. Terrified, Bronze Tusk ran for his life, slicing the occasional revenant in twain with his rusty blade. He could only wonder what kind of being would interfere with this mad ruler’s plans, certainly he would have done so if he got the chance. Maybe it would be better if he was able to know what was coming next. But maybe, just maybe, this weirdness was necessary for Hippoborea to survive. He shrugged it off and departed into the great beyond of Hippoborea.