Up On High

Chapter One: Up On High

The sky is a domain of the privileged. Somewhere up beyond the clouds a world exists that is forbidden to those weighed down by the chains of a mundane individual. For those ground-dwellers the sky is a symbol of freedom, the ability to go wherever one wants and choose their own fate, for better or worse. To others, those graced with wings or augmentations of a mythical nature, it's a playground. The expanse of fluffy white is a sea or a spring that they can play in to their heart's content, their own private wonderland. There are those who reject the laws of the world, those who challenge the natural. For some individuals, ones of courage, ingenuity, and above all: spirit, the sky is closer than it seems.

“WOOOOOOO!”

Birds scattered, the sound of an exuberant shout tearing across the peaceful silence of the sky. The terrible shriek of a predator followed as the birds fled for safer skies. A bulge emerged in the patch of clouds, a triumphant laughter echoed across the horizon, and the pointed tip of a purple hat emerged through the sea of white. With a single last beat of it's powerful wings a creature blasted out of the cloud cover, shrieking again as if to challenge the heavens themselves. The griffon climbed higher, and its rider cackled. The unicorn stood on hind-legs atop the creature, one hoof wrapped around the griffon's neck and the other clamped on the brim of her witches hat. The mare's coat was a parallel to the sky itself, her long curved mane a shade of silver-blue. Fierce purple eyes watched the cloud-front ahead of them as her lengthy cape flapped wildly in the breeze.

Trixie whooped again, a challenge to whatever false-god that would dare to challenge her place in the air. “Is that all you've got, feather-brain?” she bellowed over the wind, “Help Trixie show the world the true meaning of speed!”

The griffon shrieked again, banking slightly left and allowing its wingtip to cut along the cloud surface below them. Trixie adjusted accordingly, not the least bit concerned that the griffon would be able to throw her in the event that it tried. There was a feeling of elation like no other in her breast. Of all the ponies in the world, she deserved this. They walked on the ground below, less than specks to her now, because they were nothing compared to Trixie. No tenacity, no soul, no drive, they were still stranded on that dust-ball. Not Trixie, since day one she'd told herself that there was no force that could stop her, that The Great and Powerful Trixie was simply the best. Period.

Trixie's dangerous mount kicked its head back, jolting Trixie as it prepared to dive back down through the clouds. The unicorn braced herself as the creature's beak plunged through the first layer and its wings folded, the griffon going vertical. Trixie held her breath, snapping her eyes shut and shivering against the cold and the moisture as they plummeted down. Halfway through the dive she began to lose her grip, after all she didn't have much to hang on with. To compensate for her woefully basic appendages she released a spark of magic, utilizing a gravity spell to keep her hooves firmly planted along the griffon's spine.

“Hah! That's what Trixie's talking about!” The force of wind giving her a natural facelift did little to hold back her boisterous voice. The griffon chattered beneath her, seemingly pleased to have done well by the great magician.

They shattered through the lower clouds. Equestria rolled along beneath Trixie, tranquil and wild as ever. Rolling green hills and expansive forests. So much land left unpopulated, but here and there she could spy a town or a small city, even a number of farms strewn throughout the nowhere territories. All of it was sovereign to Princess Celestia, but in the mind of the azure mare on high, she had just as much right to that world as anypony else.

Their destination was close now, more than sight she could feel it. Trixie had been training for a long time, how long she couldn't even remember. The time had finally come for her to establish herself freshly in the minds of those few who had doubted her. Those insignificant ponies who thought to laugh and cast scorn towards a humble showmare. Trixie had tamed the sky itself, there was no obstacle that she couldn't overcome, and no objective that she could not take into her possession.

It was time. The world slowed for her. The griffon's wings took long minutes to reach their peak before powering back downward. Trixie took a deep breath... and released her grip on the monster. The unicorn stepped backwards, spreading her forelegs above her head as if announcing her next big show. Trixie felt the curved flank of the griffon, the base of its tail a nub underhoof. Somewhere far away the griffon cried out its predator's yell. Letting gravity do its thing, Trixie jumped. Trixie fell.

A blue speck fell out of the sky, a mystery for any who looked up to see it. Trixie might as well have been a star falling out of space. The mare's hat clung snugly to her head, her cape almost threatening to be torn off as she dove headfirst towards the ground. The ballots were closed, the time for do-or-die had come at last. Trixie kept her eyes open as long as she could, but the wind dried them out and they were soon watering as her body attempted to keep them moist. The portrait beneath her grew more and more detailed. Trixie could see individual houses, the fence surrounding a farm, the ponies strolling down countryside roads. The wind rushed in her ears, and she clamped them down against her head to stifle it so that she could think. For the first time she wondered if she'd gone too far, if The Great and Powerful Trixie had overestimated herself and stepped willingly to her own death.

As if Trixie would make it so easy for you, Reaper, the mare taunted in her mind, currently unable to speak or hear herself even if she chose to. The ground had to be close now, at least on the relative scale of things. Trixie knew she had to force her eyes open if she was going to have any chance at survival. Above - and below her at the same time - her cape was twisting and cocooning around her body, trapping and distracting the mare. You'll have to stare into the face of defeat this time. She concluded her thought.

Energy coursed throughout her length. The mare channeled it in pulsing lines from each of her limbs. Trixie could almost feel the magic tingling at the tips of each hair in her mane as it coalesced at the spot just beneath the base of her horn, waiting to be released. There was a zen-like peace to channeling magic, and Trixie had gotten it down to an art. One of the simplest ways for a unicorn to amplify her power was to learn how to focus energy not just from one's mind, but their entire body. For all that the universe was concerned, Trixie may as well have been the conductor of energy itself, waving her wand as the symphony elegantly gathered her natural strength and pooled it between her eyes.

Now or never. Trixie's eyes snapped open, fighting against the wind. The roar had returned, threatening to shatter any semblance of concentration. The unicorn's horn glowed with a severe intensity and quickly warmed to the temperature of an oven burner on one of its lower settings. Trixie knew what to do, clarity was just another score on the board that hung below her title. The air around her compressed somewhat, bending and protesting as Trixie's magic gripped it. At such speed it was hard to gauge how best to snag the air rushing around her, but she caught on quickly to its game. More magic. It was practically exploding off of her. If she hadn't looked like a falling star before, she certainly did now as the purple light surrounding her turned her into a beacon.

It was simple. Trixie could shed the kinetic energy from her fall into the air around her. With magic she could convert it into raw energy to burn off as fuel for the very spell that was drawing it in. Controlling the air around her she could thicken and contract it until it was as if she were sliding to safety down a little glass tube. Still, it took concentration. Trixie bit down on her lip, muting her own ego for once as she she dropped out of the air and fired off wave after wave of magic. Sparks lit up around her, electrical discharges as she turned excess energy to physical form and let it disperse. It wasn't enough, Trixie forced more power to twist to her will. Arcs of lightning flashed beside her, startling and nearly interrupting her flow. Another flash, something singed the edges of her hat. Grunting with effort, she tried to expand the area in which the energy was discharging. The lightning lanced out all around her in a semi-sphere, each bolt fizzling out just as the next one came into being. So concentrated on the act, Trixie didn't notice a simple fact: it was working.

The ground was in full detail. Trixie could see leaves swaying, grass bowing to the horizontal breeze as the unicorn battled a vertical one. The showmare's flashy descent had slowed, for sure, but she was still going dangerously fast. Trixie swallowed a hard lump before taking a stab in the dark. The unicorn curled and flattened herself out until she was upright again, hooves pointed at the ground. Trixie picked up speed slightly as her concentration was diverted from the field around her, but not enough to make a difference if her bid succeeded. Power trickled out of her horn, supplementing her limbs instead and reinforcing bone and muscle tissue.

Trixie can do this, she thought. I can do this.

Impact was brutal. The ground gave off a blunted boom as four hooves touched down, forcing Trixie into a crouch and causing her to collapse onto her stomach over the imprint her landing had made on the earth. Trixie's horn was still hot, in her panic she hadn't released the flow of magic yet and it was burning off energy without any focus. There was pain, Trixie could feel her limbs screaming at her for doing such a stupid thing in the first place as her mind berated poor Trixie for choosing style over logic, for doing such a thing purely to see if she could. Those voices in her head were muted though, muted by a much louder shout, one that sounded more like her own voice.

“HAH! Take that universe! Trixie is the master of land and sky, Trixie cannot be destroyed by the force of gravity itself. Trixie bends the energy of the natural world as if it were her little toy doll.” Trixie got to her legs, ignoring the pain and stamping out an applauding rhythm as she delighted in her own success. “Behold,” she bellowed to the silent field of daisies that surrounded her. “The Great and Powerful Trixie!”

“Well that's a relief,” a condescending and sarcastic voice called. “I thought everypony would have forgotten you by now, at least you still have Trixie to remember you.”

Trixie looked up, matching glares with the figure whom she had traveled to face. It had been over a year, but she looked just the same. “Twilight Sparkle!” she spat, “You and your friends poked fun at Trixie, but Trixie is back to prove that you were then, and always will be, less than Trixie.”

“Trixie...” the purple unicorn replied, false concern dripped from her tone and belayed the sly grin she was aiming Trixie's way. “How do you prove you're better at magic if you don't even have a horn?”

“W-what?! Trixie has... did you not see... t-there was falling, and Trixie...” The unicorn ceased babbling. Trixie stared up and inwards as she fell to Twilight's mind-games. Of course she had a- oh no.

The showmare's eyes went wide, she scratched and prodded at her face and tried to will the protrusion back into existence. It was undeniable, her horn was just gone. Trixie's horn was gone and Twilight stood across from her, the insufferable nobody that she was, grinning. Happily grinning at her second victory over an obviously superior opponent. What could Trixie do? What use was there trying to fight a unicorn without magic? All that training. All that time spent developing her technique, wasted?

“Never!” Trixie screamed, launching herself at Twilight as-

* * *

-As the showmare tumbled off of her bed. Trixie face-planted on a wood floor as the room around her skidded to an abrupt stop. The unicorn was still breathing heavily, trying to get her bearings and drag herself out of the scratchy tasseled blanket that she was now caught in. It took a few furious moments to realize that she was completely alone and in a dark and safe place that could only be described by the mare as 'home'. Trixie sighed rubbing her forehead softly as a vicious headache rocked her world. The mare forced a small nervous chuckle as she righted herself and moved to the window.

The curtain was pulled back by magic and sunlight poured in. The small sheet of fabric had induced near black-out darkness, but the sun shone brightly outside and threatened to blind Trixie as it overtook her caravan. The light spilled over a cramped space that was filled with various props and tools of her trade. Makeup was strewn below her vanity table, where it had lurched away from its corner in the sudden stop. Playing cards were everywhere, along with a thin layer of bright green dust that glittered in the sun. A rack had fallen over, spilling her star-spangled hat and cape onto the floor.

Trixie picked up those sacred objects. The fabric was thoroughly worn, there were several minor breaks in the seams of her cape, and her hat's brim had lost some of its stability. The unicorn carried them over to the windowsill, staring out across the green grass that blanketed the scenery beside the road. The unicorn looked down at her hat and cape, fondly remembering each performance back to the day she'd acquired them. Gently, and very bluntly, she tossed them out the window.

A 'hmph' escaped her lips. “Trixie needs a new costume,” she announced, turning away from the window.

In no time she was hitched up to the wagon yoke and trudging along. Magic was a convenient way to keep her caravan moving whilst she slumbered, but the headache she acquired from the prolonged task was a force to be reckoned with, even for Trixie. Trixie's destination was just ahead now, the city on the mountain: Canterlot. It was still a ways off, but she was glad that she could at least see the gold and white spires of the city now. Trixie's enthusiasm was dampened by the thought that she'd soon be dragging her caravan up those dangerous exhausting slopes.

“Hah... Trixie knew she should have just taken over Equestria and became an empress instead. A life of travel seems much more glorious before you experience its 'charms'...”

The showmare looked fondly at the city creeping closer and closer. Canterlot wasn't quite home, but it was special to her nonetheless. It was where she'd cultivated her talent for magic, where she'd honed herself into the spectacular performer and magician that she had become. It was where she'd grown up. Canterlot was the city where she'd proven that a little filly with absolutely no clue what she was doing could become something great if she tried hard enough. Trixie had been all around Equestria,but nothing beat getting back to one's roots.

Trixie squinted against the sun in her eyes. The loss of her hat may have been premature. Trixie won't be compared to some aged old hat, she thought, justifying her betrayal as she left the clothing articles behind. She’d been looking to update her show anyways. Perhaps Trixie's dream was prophetic, she mused. A griffon would certainly be an interesting addition to the show. Although she loathed the idea of sharing a stage, it was worth the consideration. If she could find a feral griffon it would be the same difference as a wild animal. A pet. She made a mental note to keep her eye open.

* * *

The closer she got the more ponies Trixie passed. Some were royal guards doing their rounds. As always, she drew stares. Despite her agitation at the heat and the effort she exerted to keep the wagon moving she smiled and waved, holding her head high. Trixie will be damned before she lets these ponies think a task this slight could wear her down. A few loud greetings, a couple prolonged stares, and Trixie was satisfied that she’d be able to count on at least a few of the passing ponies to take interest in her next show. Being a performer was as much about salesmanship as it was about the magic. No one wanted to see a magician who didn’t look the part in her off-time too.

A few curious mobs later and she was up to the gates. The guards were always a hassle in bigger towns like Canterlot. For the most part they didn't bother anypony coming or going, but they were obligated to search caravans and traders' wagons. That quickly became a problem for Trixie. Being great and powerful also came with its share of jabs and malcontent hecklers. It just so happened that guards often fell into that group.

Two armored pegasi approached her wagon, each taking one side and looking over it. Trixie's caravan was in much better shape than her cape and hat, in no small part due to the fact that she'd had to acquire a new one in the events at Ponyville. The new wagon was slightly smaller, painted in an icy blue, but of a lightweight construction that made it considerably easier to haul around. The red roof had returned, if a little flatter than her old wagon's roof. Trixie unhitched herself with a quick shot of magic and chased the pegasus on her left to ensure he didn't muck about with Trixie's instruments.

“Great and Powerful, eh?” the guard scoffed, reading the curly gold script painted across the side.

Trixie nodded definitively, “Of course, Trixie is the foremost magical performer in all of Equestria. Trixie's show boasts record breaking attendance numbers amongst traveling entertainers.” The mare looked down at her hoof nonchalantly. No big deal, really. Relatively low on Trixie's list of accolades. She was still intensely proud each time she said it.

The guard shook his head. “Sounds like a bunch of hot-air. How can you stand working for a phony like that? She pay you in smoke and mirrors?” The guard chortled, nudging her.

“Ha. Ha.” Trixie replied, callously. “No, Trixie pays assistants quite generously.”

The guard didn't catch on to her tone, or didn't care. Either way, he reached the rear of the caravan and shoved it open. Without so much as a pause, he stepped up and observed the mess inside. Trixie watched, digging at the ground impatiently, as the pegasus sniffed at the dust that had spilled all over the floor and poked at a cushion in one corner. The showmare was abruptly aware of the box of fireworks sitting in plain sight beside her bed. For the love of Celestia, don't let this oaf-

“These explosives?” The guard asked as he sniffed at the head of a bottle rocket. What was he doing sniffing everything anyways? Was his mother a hound dog?

“They're fireworks, obviously,” Trixie corrected. “Trixie uses them to attract a crowd and set the scene for more elaborate parts of the performance.”

The pegasus looked around the caravan again, still not cluing in on a very simple fact. “Does your boss have a permit for this stuff? Where is she anyways, get lost pulling a rabbit out of a hat or something?”

“I'm Trixie, you dolt!” she snapped, swinging the door of her caravan inwards so he could see her cutie mark painted brightly against the dark wood. “And of course Trixie has the proper certification for all of the props in this caravan, as well as a license to perform on public property!” she cut him off before he could inquire about that tidbit as well.

The guard looked from the painting on the door to Trixie – or, more accurately, her flank – before soaking in a few moments of silence. The pegasus was a statue as his minuscule mind tried to work out whether he should be boorish or respectfully penitent. Evidently he decided on the option that allowed him to flaunt his authority. “Well, Miss Trixie, or is that just 'Great and Powerful'? We're taking your wagon for further investigation, as well as your certification to confirm its legitimacy.” The pegasus smiled triumphantly.

Trixie's eyes narrowed. “Have you ever seen a pony sawed in half?” she asked grimly.

“Nah, just some cheap illusions from two-bit magicians.” The guard flicked a wing, pointedly saying 'get out of the way' with the gesture.

Trixie would destroy you. She thought, venom coursing through her. If there was one thing from her dream that had been true to life, it was that she had been training. The mare's already astounding magical prowess had grown in leaps and bounds as she struggled to improve her show everywhere she went. Then again... the last thing Trixie needed was a chase throughout Canterlot, or a stay in the dungeons. There was always the option of hit-and-run, but Trixie would rather die fending off Celestia herself than be forced to replace her wagon again.

“Very well, Trixie will accompany you to the legal offices. Don't touch Trixie's things!” The mare snapped, stepping down and allowing the guard to exit her property. When he was clear she slammed the door shut, catching a bit of his tail on the way.

The guard yelped as a clump of hair was yanked out. Trixie resisted the urge to point and bellow triumphantly as he drew the crowd’s attention. The pegasus shot her a glare and snorted angrily, Trixie shrugged benignly, a satisfied smile on her face. The guard took off, regrouping with his companion and leading the way through the gates with a few shouts. Trixie smugly hitched herself back up to the wagon and pulled it along into the city.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you're game for more to come. In the coming chapters we'll be introducing the rest of the crew and hopefully sticking to an 'omnipotent' writing style instead of just focusing on Trixie's magnificence (although I could totally write an entire novel about Trixie's magnificence alone). For those of you who were hoping for the epic showdown between T. Sparkle and Trixie, sorry guys. That's not this story. This story focuses on Trixie and her group of allies, whom we'll meet very shortly. From here on in, there will likely not even be a mention of Twilight or other members of the Main Six.

Besides one or two look-overs by myself, this hasn't been pre-read. So feel free to point out grammatical errors, wording errors, unclear descriptions, or just anything you think could improve the story with a bit of a tweak. Unless you think I should simplify Trixie's (awesome) freefalling scene. Because I like it too much.

Thanks for reading!

Home Is Where Your Hat Hangs

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Chapter Two: Home Is Where Your Hat Hangs

There are legends of creatures that move through shadows as a fish would water. Some say they are winged demons, the stuff of nightmares, that came to torment the wicked. Others believe them to be ponies who have spent their entire lives studying the arts of subterfuge and mastering the arcane to bend nature itself in their favor. It is said that they could cross a forest in autumn without ever touching a single leaf. Trixie was not one-such creature, but she figured that if they really existed it was only a matter of time before they arrived to welcome her into their fold, so impressed by her talent for subtle movement.

Just moments ago she had escaped the legal offices, and for the second time in one night she found herself attempting to access a second-floor window. Trixie had been imprisoned by the guard with little besides her own thoughts and mud-flavored coffee as they tediously reviewed her credentials. It had all been going well, at least until they realized that her pyrotechnics license was out of date - really, she’d been meaning to renew it when she had the time. That was the first signal that she ought to make a hasty retreat, facilitated by a cleverly timed trip to the little fillies room. Unfortunately, leaving behind her wagon and the majority of her possessions left her a penniless magician in a city ruled by wealth. At some point she would find a way to get them back, once the city guard had cooled off, but in the meantime no hotel would take her in on her word alone, and she still needed a place to stay. Luckily, one doesn’t often become famous without having made a few friends first.

So there she was, perched atop a narrow ledge beside a fire-escape and clinging dearly to the wall behind her. The moon was particularly dim that night, making the alleyway below seem more like a chasm, despite the glinting silver rims of a trash can or two. Trixie took a deep breath, shaking the thought out of her head and focusing on her task. The window she meant to access was just beside her now. Easy as cake, naturally. Trixie simply reached one hoof towards the pane and gently pushed upwards. It didn't budge. Trixie tried again, applying more force while still clinging to the wall. Still, the window didn’t open. The mare gave a sneer and pounded against the glass, a moment later the recoil from the blow shook back up her foreleg and threw off her balance. Trixie flailed momentarily, her hair standing on end as everything from her tail to her ears attempted to glue the mare back to the wall and gradually succeeding.

“Who in Equestria locks a second floor window?” Trixie snapped at no one in particular. The window seemed unsympathetic. “Oh, you think Trixie would surrender to you? You're nothing. Trixie's magic would blow you clean off your hinges!”

An appropriate spell came to mind. The edges of the window glowed an ominous purple as Trixie wove a modicum of her energy into it. The glass swelled outward like a balloon inflating and creaked with progressively higher volume. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. It occured to Trixie that causing a small explosion while clinging to a building wasn’t the best plan of attack. That griffon would've come in handy, in case Trixie falls, she mused. Thinking more clearly, Trixie reconfigured the spell in her mind for a much quieter approach. If she could just undo the lock, there’d be no need for theatrics. The window began to glow again, much more faintly until... nothing. The magic fizzled out abruptly, smothered by some counterspell.

“What?” Trixie spat. She could almost imagine the window chortling at her. It would’ve been easy to just slide out of her way, but shut it stayed, leaving her to freeze on the side of a building all night. It was mocking her.

Boom! The window shattered outwards. Glass rained down into the alleyway, temporarily illuminated by purple light. The wooden frame was blasted apart, creating a sizable hole through which a cloud of grey smoke trickled up over the rooftops. Trixie gave a yelp, swishing her hooves through the air as the building rumbled and tried to throw her from its side. In a fear of gymnastic prowess the mare threw herself, sideways, through the gap. Trixie skidded on her chin across the carpeted interior of the room beyond, a graceless yet effective landing. The mare lay still for a moment, catching her breath and enjoying the sensation of solid ground.

“Behold!” she declared in a harsh whisper, “The Great, and Powerful, Trixie!”

As she looked back at the carnage Trixie’s heart fell. A stallion sat upright in his bed, gawking at the azure creature that had just flown through his window. It was a unicorn with a barrel-thick build and a horn of impressive length for a normal pony. The stallion’s faded beige coat, along with a long silvery mane, gave him an aged appearance that was only amplified by the wrinkles his raised brow was inflicting on his forehead. Having lived on the road it had been a very long time since Trixie felt any sense of recognition when faced with another pony, but it was hard to forget Topstitch. The stallion had put on a little weight, but Trixie knew him in an instant, and realized that she had just blown up his apartment right in front of him.

Topstitch blinked at last. “Hello... Trixie.”

Trixie’s ear twitched, the mare growing uncomfortable under his weighted stare. “Why... are you sleeping in the guest room?” Trixie asked.

Topstitch cast a look around the room, prompting Trixie to do the same. The dresser was covered in photographs of Topstitch and other ponies he’d known. In the corner was a desk, littered with clumps of fabric and a mess of cloth patterns. The wardrobe beside her was half open and filled to bursting with a stallion’s clothing. Although Trixie found it hard to doubt her own memory, the room she’d destroyed undoubtedly belonged to the bedraggled stallion before her. Trixie scratched the back of her head, not willing to admit her error, it was still possible that Topstitch had merely changed rooms since her last visit.

The unicorn on the bed replied with a question of his own, “Why didn't you use the door?”

Aha! An easy one. Trixie recovered her usual gusto and replied, “Trixie didn't wish to disturb you by knocking so late at night, so she devised a plan to let herself in.”

“Ah,” Topstitch exhaled. “That was thoughtful of Trixie.”

“Trixie thanks you for noticing.”

Another long silence.

“Trixie is going to sleep now... goodnight.”

“I have spare blankets in the hall-closet,” Topstitch replied, tilting his head towards the door and fighting back a smile. “It's good to see you,” he said, finally.

On her way out Trixie paused, looking over her shoulder to reply, “It’s been a long time, Trixie can’t imagine how you coped without her.” With that the mare left, her hoofsteps retreating down the hallway. About halfway down it he heard a loud thump, followed by swearing. The closet door creaked open loudly, prompting a hushed insult followed by an abrupt slamming noise. The floorboards groaned in protest for a few seconds longer, and finally silence.

Topstitch sat in his bed a moment longer, his expression falling as he rolled his eyes. A chilling breeze was now filling his bedroom, thanks to Trixie’s modifications to the wall. If he could have ignored it he would have, but the stallion got out of bed with a sigh. Somewhere in her over-inflated head he knew that Trixie meant well, but he had hoped that the next time they saw each other would've been under less destructive circumstances. Shivering in the breeze, he found a swathe of thick wool on his desk and pinned it up over the hole. Using magic, Topstitch drove a few tacks into the wall to hold it in place. Satisfied with the patch job, he turned and flopped down onto his bed. It didn't matter, there was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep. It would be nightmares about burglars for a week.

* * *

“You want a new costume?” asked Topstitch, incredulously. Seeing the showmare without her distinctive hat and cape had been a surprise, but not unduly strange. When Trixie had explained her misfortunes he’d assumed her costume to be among the possessions confiscated.

It was late morning. Both unicorns had suffered sleepless nights, and neither had been in the mood to scrounge for a legitimate breakfast. The end result was eating out, Topstitch’s treat. Following the meal they had been meandering amongst the early risers of Canterlot’s elite. Topstitch played the part much better, dressed in a pin-striped green vest and a white shirt, complete with cravat. The stallion's wavy mane was now properly combed back. Each of them levitated a cup of coffee as they went, Trixie soaking in the sights of Equestria’s great capital. It still wasn’t enough to stifle the yawn that came to her lips.

“Of course,” Trixie replied, sloshing her coffee nonchalantly. “Trixie's act is constantly evolving. If I'm supposed to remain the premiere event in all of Equestria then Trixie must look the part. Trixie was thinking something with more gold this time.”

Topstitch resisted the urge to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’. “What happened to your old hat and cape?” he pressed, growing stern.

Trixie attempted an evasive laugh at the same time that she swallowed, resulting in spluttering and choking. It had the same effect, which was to stall for time. Recovering, she shook her head furiously as if she’d just remembered the entire ordeal, “I... I mean, Trixie... was attacked.”

“Oh?” Topstitch wasn’t buying it..

“Of course, on the way here Trixie encountered a roving highwaypony, a cunning thief but still no match for me, obviously. There was no choice but to do battle,” the mare shrugged, emphasizing the inevitability, “the rogue damaged my cape and hat, with no chance for repair, but ultimately I was victorious.” Busy as she was, glowing with pride, Trixie didn’t notice Topstitch’s exasperation.

“A mare of your caliber deserves better.” Topstitch agreed complacently. The stallion took a sip of his drink as she ignored him and went on.

“A new costume is just the thing to welcome another glorious era of... Trixie!” mid-step, Trixie posed, flashing her pearly white teeth at the sky and batting her eyelashes. Before Topstitch could leave her behind her stance lapsed fluidly back into a walking motion.

Topstitch smiled, but his features were still rigid, “You know, it took me a long time to put those together for you. Is Trixie planning on compensating Topstitch in any way?”

The showmare balked, “Topstitch! For shame. Do you not boast of being Trixie's number-one fan? What sort of fan extorts bits from his hero?”

A roundabout way of saying it, but definitely a no. It wasn’t like he’d expected any different, Topstitch knew that Trixie wasn’t much for sentimental value. The seamster bowed his head, but allowed his face to relax and maintained his happy expression.

Trixie smiled as well. It was good to be in friendly company, and now that they were spedning time together she did feel slightly guilty that her visits were so seldom. Both of them had come to Canterlot to make names for themselves, Topstitch all on his own – Trixie had garnered the assistance of her great, though not particularly powerful, aunt. The life of an entertainer went hand-in-hand with jeers and naysayers, but here was a pony who had supported her from the very start. Years later, it seemed like they’d almost accomplished their goals, the seamster and the magician. Perhaps there were a few ponies who hadn’t heard of them yet, but they’d each come a long way. Topstitch had sewn her costume and advertised her shows, and Trixie had helped him get fabric and tools to begin his career. It was a partnership born of necessity, but it served to turn them into good friends.

Perhaps Trixie could compensate him a little bit, the showmare thought, after she gets her wagon back, of course... and her new costume.

Topstitch heaved a mock sigh, “I suppose I’d be liable to suffer a sudden lightning bolt if I refused, but I could see myself stitching up another costume for ‘the most magically talented unicorn in all of Equestria.’”

Trixie could practically taste sarcasm. “Do not mock Trixie!” she snapped.

Topstitch shrugged, “I'm only saying. I'm a fearful mortal pony, too lowly to compare with your marvelously groomed fetlocks alone.” The seamster paused to check his watch, causing Trixie to stop as well.

The showmare blocked Topstitch’s path and rounded on him, “Trixie will not be treated like a doe-eyed filly, Trixie demands respect!” She stamped at the ground.

“I guess you've earned it,” he said, patting her head before walking around her. “If I’m making you a costume I’ll need to visit someone first.”

Although Trixie hadn’t noticed it, they’d wandered into the residential strip. Many of Canterlot’s elite lived further up the boulevard, though they were currently in the middle-class neighborhood. Most of the homes here were small townhouses, most two-stories tall, smashed on top of each other, they were cute uniform buildings but nothing to stop and stare at. The showmare feigned disinterest as she trudged silently behind her friend, but she was genuinely curious what Topstitch was playing at. The stallion led her to the only single-story home on the block, a small baby blue abode, and mounted the first of the steps. The showmare made her disdain obvious as she quirked a brow.

“Trixie was under the impression we were making purchases, not house calls.”

“Yes and no,” Topstitch replied, weighing how much he should tell her. “he's a friend of mine, and an ally in the fight for an adequately fancy Equestria.”

The azure unicorn tilted her head, her tone sardonic, “What is that supposed to mean? Trixie won't be inducted into some sort of cult.”

Closer to the truth than you know, Topstitch thought, repelling a chuckle. “It's an old saying amongst the clothiers here. Those of us who'd profit if the majority of Equestrians began wearing clothes on a daily basis.”

Trixie waved a hoof dismissively, “Some ponies may need itchy clothes to look good, but Trixie is naturally perfect.” Realizing what she’d said Trixie hastened to add, “she would still like a new costume though!”

Unphased, Topstitch went on, “Knee Socks is your best bet. Accessories are sort of his... specialty, he can design a costume far beyond my ability. Plus, you may enjoy him, you have a lot in common.” Topstitch gave his best attempt to be convincing. It was Trixie’s turn to remain doubtful.

The words 'a lot in common' sent up several red flags. Trixie had heard that line before, and typically they were used to describe ponies she couldn’t stand. Vile narcissists, slandering dregs of society, dishonest troublemakers. There weren’t many ponies that Trixie got along with to begin with, but ponies like that made it too easy to hate them. It was never clear to the showmare exactly what similarities she shared with those ponies, but they weren’t readily visible ones. Still, anything that got her closer to her new costume was an ordeal she was prepared to tolerate. The mare finished off the last of her coffee, crushed the cup with a short burst of magic, and tossed it to the side. She nodded, giving Topstitch the all-clear to knock.

The seamster shot Trixie a miffed look before he picked up the trash and stowed the polystyrene ball within his own empty cup. She ignored his matronly stare. Rolling his eyes, Topstitch approached the front door and rapped on it a few times. Silence followed. The two ponies idly scanned the street while they waited. Topstitch began to wonder if it was too early to have paid a visit. The morning was mostly passed, but it wasn’t absurd that Socks could have chosen to sleep in. Soon, however, they heard the grind of a metal slide and the latch on the door popped up as the boards swung inward.

Trixie faltered. She would have rathered die than admit it, but the pony before her had stricken Trixie speechless. The earth pony stallion was squat, though not portly. his coat was a light periwinkle and what was visible of it had a healthy sheen. Knee Socks had covered himself from nose to tail in drapings. He wore a brown vest and a cream shirt, with a blue tie hanging lazily from his neck. White cuffs adorned his fetlocks and a plaid golf cap sat atop his curly orange mane, which matched the ginger fuzz around his muzzle. He even wore glasses, circular spectacles that were so far down his nose that it was obvious he didn’t need them to see. Worst of all, however, were the tall navy blue socks that covered the entirety of both of his hind legs, each one embroidered with a black inky blotch behind a crescent moon. Socks’ own cutie mark was barely visible, but appeared to be some sort of black cloak.

“Socks!” Topstitch greeted him loudly, drawing attention away from the dumbstruck mare, “would you mind humoring us for a while?”

The thin line of Socks' sleepy frown immediately changed into a big gleaming smile. Trixie could only gawk critically, her eyebrow arched at a ridiculous height. A few quick calculations led to one snap decision: she hated him. No one dressed like that without a motive. From his socks to his hat, everything about the stallion was like a great red blip on Trixie’s presence-detecting radar. Socks was the kind of pony to walk into a room wearing a fruitcake on his head, then delight as everypony stared in his direction. An attention-grubbing, self-important, pretentious jerk. Just another in a long line of insufferable ponies trying to snag the spotlight from deserving prodigies.

The offender just stood there, oblivious of his crimes. His accent was pure Canterlot, his tone slathered in a barrel’s worth of ecstasy, “Of course, sure! Anything for a fellow brother of cloth.” Socks smirked, gently brushed his tie, and adjusted his hat before continuing, “Who could this be with you, though?”

This was her chance. Trixie nudged Topstitch aside and put a hoof to her breast. Proudly, she declared, “The Great and Powerful Trixie, of course.”

Topstitch rolled his eyes and clarified, “She's a client, and an old friend.”

“The very oldest!” Trixie corrected, jabbing sharply at Socks' eyes.

“Well, well,” Socks said, his stare appraising. “I'm Knee Socks, haberdasher extraordinaire, but I'm sure Topstitch has raved all about me.”

“Never heard of you.” Trixie scoffed, admiring her hoof pointedly.

Knee Socks did what she hadn't expected, he laughed. The stallion laughed heartily and when he recovered he regarded her with a grin. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Trixie. Come inside and I'll see what I can do to help you.”

Topstitch took the lead. “We're looking to provide Trixie with a new hat and cape for her act,” he said.

“Aah,” Socks cooed in a knowing manner. “So you'll be wanting my other half,” he muttered diabolically. Trixie was now positive that she didn’t want to follow him inside.

Nonetheless, they accompanied Socks into the foyer. There was a dead plant at one end of the hall, morosely clinging to the cream-colored walls around it. A set of hooks hung on the wall by the door, jam-packed with more types of hat than Trixie had known to exist. The mare poked at one wooly abomination as if it might leap off the wall at any moment. Topstitch chastised her as she looked at the hat with undisguised disgust. Socks hadn’t noticed, he was already gone, leading them off a side passage into the living room. Trixie hurried to catch up, still skeptical of the lunatic's den, which Topstitch had lured her into.

“Hope no one minds clutter,” Socks called back to them, “I've yet to find a way to contain genius.”

The living room was piled high on one end with cardboard boxes that ranged in all sizes, a thin layer of packing materials coated the ground around the mountain. Upon closer inspection there were scarves, caps, cuffs, and other assorted accessories poking out of each box. A variety of sewing supplies also littered the ground nearby. Trixie stepped hesitantly into the mess, trying her best not to be swallowed by it. The room was almost empty of decorations or furniture, save the two small beat-up couches in the center of the room, which were also laden with gloves, socks, and hundreds of half-drawn designs. It felt like Socks’ living room had literally been devoured by clothing apparel.

“Explain to Trixie why you need the aid of a mad hatter?” Trixie hissed, shaking a scarf off her leg.

Topstitch made himself at home, neatly moving aside a box so he could sit. Socks plopped into the far one, provoking a puff of papers and dust to take flight. Trixie gawked at the two of them as if she were the only one who could see their surroundings. The haberdasher was clearly insane, and she had been unwittingly yanked into his overdressed lair. Trixie shook her head roughly, it’s for Trixie’s costume, she thought. That reasoning was enough, she forced back her disgust long enough to knock a top-hat carelessly to the floor and take its place on the sofa, beside Topstitch.

Socks grunted loudly. “Haberdasher,” he corrected, “that's not all though, I picked up a side-hobby too. Low-key, very exclusive.”

Trixie glared, “Trixie assumes you have a point?”

“Costumes!” Socks exclaimed, pleased to have drawn out a reaction. The haberdasher's excitement was equivalent only to Trixie's trepidation. “I design and produce costumes for fantasy endeavors. Role-playing events, cosplay, the occasional Nightmare Night celebration.”

“Role-playing?” Trixie asked.

“Live-action, mostly. Some people like to have costumes for tabletop games as well, although I guess you've got no idea what I'm on about.” Socks chuckled, looking wistfully towards the far side of the room.

Trixie stared blankly, but she knew exactly what he was talking about. Socks went on, explaining the fundamentals of role-playing games, but she had stopped listening. How could she have been so blind? Had Topstitch planned for this? Across the room, buried beneath colorful capes, was a shelving unit Trixie hadn’t spotted before, each square partition held a different plethora of items. One held a handful of small figurine, ponies clad in armor, skeletons wielding swords, a large brass dragon that towered above the rest. Another compartment was packed with large hardcover books that all bore the same seal and the letters 'AoN' on the spine. Trixie remembered them, because she’d owned most of them as a filly.

“... one of the big ones was Age of Nightmare, my personal favorite,” Socks went on, “it was based on the myths of Nightmare Moon, set in a universe where she took over the land and wrought misery on all of Equestria. As you can imagine, it's lost some of its fame in recent years, and there was a bit of worry that it might be outlawed due to its theme. It's all in good fun though.”

The showmare rolled her entire head back before glaring at Socks. “Trixie knows Nightmare, of course Trixie knows Nightmare! Trixie knows everything about Age of Nightmare, you insufferable hatter!”

“Oh, you used to play?” Socks asked, not at all affected by her outburst.

“'Used to play',” Trixie mimicked, flourishing her hoof as a grin overpowered her features. “Age of Nightmare runs in Trixie's veins thicker than her very blood. You would be astounded at the vast compendium of game knowledge Trixie has memorized. Trixie has seen to the completion of hundreds of epic campaigns at the hoof of brutal game masters, and perfected the skill-point allotment to create a character as incredible as Trixie herself. Trixie cast her own dice out of plastic molten by dragonfire!” by the time she’d finished the showmare was shouting, breathing heavily and stamping her hoof with each sentence.

The stallions both blinked. Another silence unfolded, Trixie was perched on the edge of her seat, jabbing a hoof at Socks, daring him to be unimpressed. Maybe the last bit was a small lie, but she had pretended she was a dragon when she learned the heating spell she’d used to make the dice. The Cute and Childishly Inaccurate dragon roars of filly Trixie still echoed through her adult mind. Besides that, it was all true. Trixie had spent years honing her skills at that stupid game before she became a magician. It made her wonder just where her dice had gotten to, or whether her great aunt still had her Nightmare source books. It was hard to keep up with hobbies like that when she was constantly traveling.

Topstitch was still stunned to silence, having been unable to foresee her reaction. Knee Socks, however, could hardly keep his mouth shut. The haberdasher was overjoyed as much as he was bewildered. Socks was absolutely shaking from his attempts to stifle the laughter broiling in his throat. It was almost too much to believe. Socks had spent months moaning about Age of Nightmare, and trying to round up a suitable group of players to join his game. Trixie was an answer to his prayers. It had been a long time since he’d seen anyone as excited about the game as she was. Well, he’d never seen anyone that excited, but the point remained the same.

“This is... marvelous,” Socks said, clapping his hooves softly as he regained control of himself, “I trust you have all the source material then? You could borrow mine, if you need a refresher.”

Trixie bristled, “Perhaps you misheard, Trixie's memory verges on photographic!”

Topstitch was beginning to think he was the one who’d walked into a lunatic’s trap. The seamster stood, forcing Trixie back into her seat before attempting to likewise sedate a bouncing Knee Socks. They both looked completely insane. He rounded on Trixie first, “We came to talk about your costume, business first. I didn’t even know you still cared that much about Nightmare...”

“Nay,” Trixie snapped, worming out of Topstitch's grip and rearing up in protest, “Trixie wants to discuss Nightmare!”

Knee Socks was clapping again, “We can count on her for our fourth!”

“I'm... beginning to think that's a bad idea.” Topstitch replied, smiling crookedly as he gave up and fell back onto the sofa.

With much effort, Socks managed to compose himself enough to have a serious discussion. “Well, I could draw a concept... you know though, I've developed a terrible artist’s block lately. It... could take a few days.”

Topstitch smacked his face with his hoof. “Socks...”

“I'm just saying, Stitchy! I'm hosting a game in a couple of days, if Trixie's waiting on her design anyways she might as well join us, right?”

“A game? Of Nightmare?” Trixie interjected, suddenly snapped free of her tirade. The idea bounced around in her head, a subconscious game of four-square. Trixie had no intentions of staying in Canterlot that long, but until she could steal her wagon back she was stuck there anyways. Trixie wasn’t necessarily opposed to having Topstitch foot the bill for her meals during her stay either. Not to mention it gave her a chance to beat Socks in his own game, in the literal sense if he was playing the game master, and such opportunities didn’t come up every day.

“Come on, Stitchy,” Socks pleaded, “If the two of you attend, we've got a full group. I'll even do you a favor, I'll stitch her costume myself, no extra charges!”

Somehow Topstitch had been caught in this trap. He’d only hoped to coax Trixie into working with Socks based on their common interest, saving him a significant amount of time coming up with a design to meet Trixie’s bloated standards. Now he was wedged between two hardcore fanatics, who both happened to be his best friends. There was no doubt in his mind that Socks was prepared to hold the designs as ransom for as long as the haberdasher deemed necessary. The gleam Socks had in his eyes was borderline obsession. Unfortunately, the enthusiasm emanating off the two of them was getting to Topstitch too.

The seamster sighed, “She won’t be able to play on a regular basis. Trixie works on the road.”

Socks deflated noticeably, he'd been hoping to make the boastful unicorn a permanent addition to his group. Those types always made a group more lively. “It's fine,” he assured, “we'll find a substitute if she has to leave. We can have a marathon session, and she can be on her way.”

“Trixie gladly accepts your challenge,” the showmare retorted, “and when she destroys your campaign, you’ll design Trixie’s costume for free!”

Socks paused, almost dumbstruck, and then burst out laughing again, “This is too glorious. Somepony get me a pillow, I just may faint.” The haberdasher shivered with anticipation, nearly unsettling his hat. Trixie was not amused.

Topstitch rubbed his eyes in a vexed manner. It didn’t look like there was any going back. The seamster gave in, “I suppose we’re in,” he said. “BUT! We need to talk about her costume now, I want you to take this seriously if we’re going to play along with you.”

“Right, right,” Knee Socks recovered, wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. “I hope you have a challenge for me, Stitchy, I'm feeling particularly genius today.”

“Trixie?” Topstitch prodded, glad that he’d gotten his way.

“Eh?” She regarded him with confusion, then disinterest. The mare's mind was still elsewhere, somewhere buried in pages written about orcs, stat modifies, and deadly traps. “Does Trixie look like a designer to you?” she asked, “Make it magnificent, just look at Trixie and be inspired.”

Topstitch's reprieve had been short lived. On to the next challenge, it seemed. The seamster reluctantly took over again, “It needs to be something especially flashy, she has a traveling act-”

“Trixie is the premiere stage-act in all of Equestria!” Trixie corrected with a growl, she refused to be sold short. The mare fell silent again, nudging Topstitch to continue.

“Right... she works as a magician, so-”

“THE magician. Trixie's magic is beyond compare.”

“I'm guessing she wants a little more than a used top-hat and some hidden pockets.” Socks replied, smirking.

The seamster nodded and cast a sidelong glance at Trixie. “Definitely. Pointy hat, gemstones, shiny moons... I trust nothing is too amazing for Trixie.”

Trixie flipped her mane, nodding in agreement. “The length of the cape has to be perfect,” she added, distrustfully, “Trixie won't be seen stumbling around the stage because of somepony's neglect.”

Socks maintained his confident stare, “Please, Trix, I'm a professional. I design costumes made for running around in the woods fighting invisible trolls. It'll be maneuverable, and it'll blow your audience's minds. You'll have to step up your magic just to compete.”

The idea of being shown up by her own clothes was something Trixie had never even considered. It sounded ridiculous. The mare scoffed, “Trixie assures you, that won't be a problem. Why should Trixie choose to trust you over Topstitch?”

The haberdasher cast a disbelieving look towards the other stallion. When he looked back at the showmare he beamed. “No offense, but Topstitch is amateur when it comes to this stuff. That unicorn's got his own toy factory, sure, but he's got no clue how to make anything but wooden soldiers and building blocks,” Socks glanced apologetically at Topstitch before continuing, “I'm the store across the street! I’ve got bells and whistles, my toys have karate-chop action. Topstitch can sew you the best party-wear in Canterlot, but he's got nothing on me in the realm of 'spectacular'. Stitchy might do a good job, but I’ll have a design to knock your socks off.”

The showmare crossed her forelegs, disgruntled, “Trixie doesn't want any socks... they itch and make her hooves too hot.”

Knee Socks' lip quivered for a moment. One idea down the drain already. Socks procured a clipboard, jotting down a few notes. “What colors did you want?” he asked, not looking up.

Trixie held up a hoof to silence Topstitch and thought for a moment. “Gold... no, silver. Actually, Trixie would look like she was made of tin... red, maybe? In any case, it had to stand out in the nighttime. Make no mistake, however, Trixie will not be clothed in some neon disaster.”

“I don't know, bright orange would certainly draw the eye.” Socks quipped. Not meeting Trixie's imperious gaze, the mare only seethed more as her stare was wasted on the brim of the haberdasher’s hat. Socks went on, “What color was the old costume? In the showbiz it's good to keep your costume recognizable.”

“What do you think you know about 'showbiz' that Trixie does not?”

“I know performers don't get costumes any faster by questioning the designer.” Socks mumbled.

Trixie huffed and sank back into the plush cushions of the sofa. Although the mare glared at Socks with all the rancor she could muster he remained pointedly unaware as he doodled on a sheet of paper. Trixie leaned, first to one side and then to the other, trying to get a glimpse of what he was drawing but it was no use due to the angle Socks faced her at. They sat in an awkward stalemate as the haberdasher tapped his pen rhythmically at his clipboard. Each crack of the instrument felt like it was reverberating in Trixie's skull, mocking and goading her. Each tap was a wave of scalding water rushing through her brain, erasing her attempts to think up a design that would both amaze an audience and stump the haughty haberdasher.

“Perhaps we should come back later,” Topstitch said irritably. “When Trixie has a clearer idea of what she wants to do.”

Trixie stuck her tongue out at him. “Trixie knows exactly what she wants to do,” she retorted, “she is merely concerned that this... dubitable merchant will fail to meet Trixie's vision. Not just anypony can hold a meeting of the minds with the likes of Trixie.”

Socks frowned in the background. “Guess I should've called to make an appointment,” he muttered.

Topstitch rolled his eyes at the both of them. “I’m sure you’d like to do more while you’re in Canterlot than just peer over Socks’ shoulder all day.”

The seamster had no idea just how much Trixie wanted to do just that. Socks was hunched protectively over his paper, scribbling furiously. Although she couldn’t see it, the shape he was drawing didn’t resemble a costume of any sort. Instead the doodle depicted a pony riding a unicycle, and juggling swords. The pony in question did, however, bear a strong resemblance to The Great and Powerful Trixie. Everypony just assumed he only drew what his work demanded, never considered that he drew things for fun too. Socks had a gallery full of doodles he'd made whilst chatting with clients. This one, he thought, was going to be his favorite. Trixie, however, couldn’t see the slightest bit of it.

“Fine!” Trixie snapped, flicking her tail sharply as she got up. “Trixie has to devise a plan to get her wagon back anyways.” The showmare inched perilously through the sea of clothing, still trying to sneak a glance at Socks’ sketch. The haberdasher paid them no heed, barely offering a farewell as Topstitch fell in line behind Trixie on the way to the exit.

Outside the house Trixie stuck out her tongue and groaned as if she were about to be sick. “Why would you take Trixie to such an insufferable pony? Does your desire to torment Trixie know no boundaries? His impudence was suffocating, Trixie's never met a pony so full of himself.”

The seamster sighed, “Socks wasn’t lying about his block, he’s had a lot of trouble designing lately. He works better with ponies who are out of the ordinary.”

Trixie snorted, “Dazzlingly generous as she is, Trixie will play along with your half-baked hatter, if only so she can squish him in Age of Nightmare.”

Not to mention extort another free costume. Topstitch smiled, deciding that was the best he was going to get from her. “That's all I ask of you,” he replied.

“Oh,” Trixie said, stopping in the street ahead of Topstitch. “Trixie will require a hat to wear until her ensemble is completed.”

The stallion cocked his head curiously. “Your ears too cold?” he jested.

The showmare didn’t reply. She loathed it, but the lack of a hat on her head was beginning to bother her.

“I think we can find something,” Topstitch chuckled.

Foreign Imports

View Online

Chapter Three: Foreign Imports

Later that evening Knee Socks had relocated to his shop in the center of Canterlot. There was an undeniable skip in the earth pony's step as he tended the shelves of the small haberdashery. Normally it was dreary claustrophobic work, reordering the jam-packed store, but his mind was in a far-off place. After his fateful encounter with Trixie he’d been able to think of little else but their upcoming game. It was strangely fortunate that he’d had no business that day. The bell over his door merely collected dust as he bounced from one end of the shop to the other, muttering ideas to himself and grinning at the thought of them.

The haberdashery had been passed along to him by a friend years ago, and he’d never really enjoyed running it. It was a decision of necessity long before desire. In those days he’d been anchorless, completely broke, and had ambitions far beyond his wallet. Gold Hemming had gone on to a larger store in Manehattan, and left his old shop to Socks as a charity. Knee Socks had little doubt that he’d be in a gutter somewhere if he hadn’t taken over. Still, the work wasn’t awful, and he was good at the craft, owning his own store gave him the free time to keep pursuing his other interests. Perhaps his shop wasn’t the most popular in Canterlot, but it kept him in a warm home with good food.

Having finished cleaning the place up, Socks was left to his own devices. It just so happened that he’d brought plenty to entertain himself with. Between planning for his game of Nightmare, and designing concepts for Trixie’s new costume, entertainment wasn’t at a premium. The teak counter at the back of the shop was abnormally burdened with stacks of old tomes, dusty maps he’d pulled from the shelves of the Canterlot library, and an ever-growing stack of documents written in his own mouthwriting. A small blue folder sat to the side of all this, Socks’ design book, along with a mug filled to bursting with drawing utensils.

Socks approached the counter and flipped the folder open at random. The stallion could only sigh as he stared at blank pages. A rainbow of fabric squares rested against the inside cover, testament to Socks’ indecision on color. Whilst the notes and ideas he’d scribbled for his fantasy adventure had grown exponentially over the last few hours the only evidence of progress on his designs were the crumpled balls of paper steadily filling his trash bin. There were a few promising prototypes he’d kept, but he was convinced that he’d lost his mind the moment he began adding frills to Trixie’s cape or drawing a hat with white lace around the brim. The result was clown-like more than anything else, and disheartening to boot.

In contrast, the success he was having with his game planning made the stallion feel almost guilty. Socks had pulled out all the stops in order to make sure the weekend would be a spectacular event. Everything had to be planned and executed with scientific precision. He’d compiled an extensive list of snack choices, and gone on to detail pros and cons. Celery was healthy and slimming, but many ponies didn’t appreciate the fibers getting stuck in their teeth. Everypony enjoys an assortment of baked goods, but it was important to cater to ponies with dietary habits as well. Pizza was pretty much a requirement for any role-playing event.

It was no use. Socks knew he wouldn’t be able to draw anything. The stallion closed his design book and turned back to his notes. Reluctantly he took a pencil from his mug and began looking over what he had so far. Where the actual adventure of his roleplay was concerned the storywork practically wrote itself. In his years as a Game Master he’d stockpiled tons of unused stories, plot devices, and puzzles he could use. Socks really was never more in his element than when he got to put all of these together and watch the game unfold. All that he really needed to do was revise things so that he wasn’t just hashing out old ideas.

A few minutes later when the haberdasher reached for his coffee he found himself choking on only dregs. Socks blinked dimly at the bottom of his mug for a moment or two before clutching the handle in his teeth and getting up to refill it. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t healthy to down a half-dozen cups or more throughout the course of a few hours. Maybe that was why he was shorter than his brothers? Although he considered such things old mare's tales—told in gluttony, most likely to save their coffee hoards—he gave the mug a mistrustful stare. It was short-lived, soon the cup was filled once more and their relationship had since mended.

Back at the counter Socks noted that very little had changed. Shop still empty? Check. Designs still awful? He didn’t dare to look. Perhaps a few more iotas of dust had landed on the register’s keys. Socks rested his head atop his hooves and slurped noisily at his barely-even-warm coffee. Closing shop early and going to find Topstitch was starting to sound like a good idea. As if sensing his boredom the bell above his door jingled. Halfway through tediously turning the pages of a book with his nose, Socks looked up sharply. Every bit of his body flooded with tension, as if the possibility of another pony’s presence had woken up all his joints. Probably the coffee, actually, he thought.

The door opened painfully slowly, but it only took a short glance to set the haberdasher tittering. The newcomer stepped gingerly into the store, his hooves giving an unexpectedly loud thump with every landing. Socks threw appearances to the wind as he leaned perilously over the side of his counter to catch a glimpse of the stranger. In terms of description there wasn’t much to see, the pony wore a gray cloak that covered all of his features besides his hooves clad in ragged boots with metal soles, the source of his noisy movements. In terms of size, however, there was quite a bit to see. The pony-like figure was tall and broad, if not massive then at least large.

The haberdasher quivered with curiosity as the stranger paused to take in the store. Try as he might, Socks couldn’t see under the figure’s hood and he was soon flitting about the shelving with arbitrary glances at the shop’s supply. Something told him that the stranger wasn’t looking to buy some thread for a torn seam. So what did he want? Was he on the lamb? Being chased by the lamb? Socks recalled reading something about a supposed sheep syndicate forming in the Canterlot underground. Despite his apparent interest in a selection of bow-ties it seemed unlikely that he was on his way to a formal dinner. Every so often the stranger’s hood shifted just slightly towards the register, Socks made no attempt to hide his interest.

Much to the haberdasher’s delight the figure seemed to have given up his ruse. Now the pony approached the counter directly and spoke, “Soft silk ties, many stout threads, I am impressed by your supply.That said, and while I mean no disrespect, my intent was not to buy.”

“Wot?” the haberdasher squeaked, suddenly speaking in an accent he hadn’t known existed. The stranger, undeniably a stallion, had Socks enrapt with his sing-song speech.

On the other side of the counter, feelings were not so eager. The stranger looked away before continuing, “Apologies, my speech must sound strange, it is a tradition from my tribe. The old habit has yet to subside.”

He couldn’t help it, Socks giggled. It was the most feminine noise that had ever escaped his muzzle. The stranger was noticeably taken aback, but it was all Socks could do to stop himself from prancing around the newcomer like some schoolyard game. Even so close he could only just make out the outline of the stranger’s face, the shine of his eyes, and the dark stripes wrapping around them. Nevertheless, he had a pretty good idea of the stranger’s origins. The idea of a foreign visitor - possibly on the lamb from the lamb - only served to ramp up his excitement.

The stranger cleared his throat to stave off an awkward silence. “I am Mwali. I’ve stayed in Canterlot a while, and heard rumor that you meant to host a game soon, and would be looking for players. If these words are true, I was hoping I might join in,” he spoke more slowly now, apparently held back by his attempts to speak plainly.

“You mean Nightmare?” Socks asked, still processing the situation, and prompted a nod. “Age of Nightmare, you wanted to join my group?” he clarified.

Again Mwali nodded, pleased to be getting somewhere.

“...marvelous,” Socks muttered, unable to form a full sentence. The haberdasher slumped his head on his upheld hoof like a filly contemplating her secret crush.

Celestia had lumped all of his eggs into one basket. Where had all these ponies been when he'd been struggling to find Nightmare fans two or three years prior? The game had undergone a heap of scrutiny over the years. It had only gotten worse as time went on. Having been based on the myth of Nightmare Moon, there was a bit of a stir in the community when Princess Luna returned. Suddenly a game based on the supposed corruption and evil conquest of one of their sovereigns seemed a bit like heresy. There was a prolonged period where the game wasn’t even sold in stores for fear of unintentionally slandering the lunar alicorn. The self-imposed ban had lightened up, if only a little, as more ponies accepted that it was harmless fiction.

“I'm sorry,” Socks said, managing to recover before his well-meaning chuckles evolved into a cackle. “That would be fan-tas-tic, you have no idea. Oh, I can't wait to tell the others... please, please, please, come have a seat!”

The haberdasher led the way into the break room, Mwali following hesitantly. The break room was more of a storage closet, filled to bursting with order receipts and boxes of extra merchandise or clearance items. A small oval table sat in the middle of the room, wedged beside a wall of cardboard boxes. The small coffee maker Socks relied so heavily on sat on the edge of the table, pot steadily growing colder. Both of them settled onto a cushion on either side of the table, Socks elected to take the more cramped of the two.

“You can call me Socks, I'm a haberdasher extraordinaire, but for your purposes...” Socks beamed, “...a dungeon master.” he clacked his hooves together, grinning madly at his own applause.

Mwali eyed the peculiar merchant nervously but made no mention of his actions, “Pleased to meet a pony who takes pride in his work. It’s an honorable quality...” he trailed off.

“Something the matter?”

“No,” he said quickly, “merely homesick. I have been away only a short time, but it feels like many more moons have passed.”

It’s as if he has a direct line to my curiosity! Socks thought, barely able to keep himself together. It was just too much. Where was he from? What made him leave? Was he being chased by a mafia of wooly monsters or not?! Meeting Trixie had been a blessing in and of itself, Socks couldn’t have been more pleased with the egocentric mare, but egocentric was just the icing on the cake compared to mysterious and foreign. Maybe he could even share some ideas for Trixie’s costume, inspire Socks’ designs with a little international flair.

“I see, I see, so you must be from far away. Is that cloak a part of your customs?”

Mwali was quiet as he shook his head. “It is a recent choice,” he said softly before explaining, “There are worse sorts abound to find, but Canterlot’s elite have not been very kind. It was rude of me to think you might be the same.”

With his booted hooves Mwali pushed back his hood. His eyes were a dark orange hue, standing out against the white of his coat and the dark grey stripes that covered him from ears to hocks. The zebra's mane was mostly dark gray, comprised of two braids on the side of his face and a short mohawk that gave way to a ponytail. Mwali’s gaze was locked onto the coffee maker, his features were strong but he appeared very unsure. In the few seconds it took for Socks to look him over both of them were silent.

“...marvelous,” Socks said, again too awed to form a sentence. “Have you ever considered a bowler? Maybe even a stetson? I think it'd suit you, in a strange way.”

The haberdasher's hoof was halfway towards a box on the wall opposite him when Mwali shook his head emphatically. In his mind Socks swore, angry that his attempts at dress-up had been curbed so quickly. It was clear that he was making the zebra uncomfortable, but he was having a hard time even being that reserved. It was taking most of his restraint to stop himself from asking fifty or more rapid-fire questions about his guest's origin and experience with Nightmare. Socks was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t known Age of Nightmare was ever popular outside of Equestria.

“I trust it would be an impressive headpiece,” Mwali replied apologetically.

Socks winced and bobbed from side to side, “Back to business then, I guess.Technically we have a full group already, but if you’re set on playing we could make some room.”

The zebra didn't look reassured. “I would be gravely disappointed, but I don’t wish to be a burden.”

“Psh.” Socks gave a hollow laugh. “It’s no problem, barely worth the mention. I just want to make sure you’re good for it before I start setting things up with you in mind. Do you prefer celery or carrots?”

“Celery, I think...” said the zebra, nonplussed.

Socks retrieved a small booklet from his counter, scribbling another point for celery. Besides vegetable scoreboards the book would soon contain the final draft of Socks’ script. The entirety of the roleplay’s planning would be stored within it. Right now, however, it was just a bunch of scribbles. Still, to put his striped friend’s mind at rest he flipped through it unceremoniously, pretending to trace lines with his hoof. The zebra leaned forwards, trying to see over the top of the book as Socks made appraising noises and finally snapped it shut.

“No problem,” Socks repeated, “Barely even have to make any changes. It’s a good thing actually, I was hoping to use a few nasty encounters that the party might need an extra for.”

“So, it's no trouble if I play?”

“Nope, the game’s on Saturday,” rhymed the haberdasher, grinning once again.

Mwali smiled for the first time since he’d walked in the store. The zebra still seemed somewhat somber as he spoke, “It’s been a long time since I was able to sit and enjoy a game.”

Socks paused, poking his coffee mug thoughtfully. “Well, we’ll just have to make sure it’s worth the wait then.”

The zebra nodded, pausing quietly before reaching for his cloak. Socks had thought him about to leave and hurried to stand up. A protest was nearly off his tongue as Mwali pulled a small green sack from the folds of his garb and placed it upon the table. The zebra settled once more, silently monitoring his parcel. Socks regarded it with some skepticism. The last time a mysterious foreigner had handed him a bag he’d found himself being questioned by Canterlot’s finest about a salt smuggling ring.

Then again, it was impossible for Socks to resist the allure of a container with unknown contents being offered freely to him. If curiosity had indeed killed the cat then Socks could only hope that he didn’t have any latent feline DNA that just happened to be swimming around his veins.The haberdasher put a hoof down on the bag to hold it still and tugged at the string holding it shut with his teeth. It came loose easily. Socks flipped the bag upside down and prayed that it wasn’t imported salt lick or something equally illegal.

Several small objects poured onto the table. It took Socks only a second to recognize that they were dice. Green, like the bag they came from, except they were translucent and had a glassy texture. Plainly a complete set, for they came in an assortment of shapes for the number of sides they each had. The haberdasher couldn’t help but give an ‘ooh’ of delight as he leaned in to examine them more closely and scoop one into his hoof. It has a surprising weight to it, and definitely wasn’t plastic. Socks admired the golden numbers on each side and realized what the hefty dodecahedron reminded him of.

“Cut emerald gem,” Mwali voiced his thought, not without a significant hint of pride. “in the world exists no equal to them. Beneath their surface lies gold, pure. Though when or why they were made, I can’t be sure.”

“Emeralds?” chuckled the astonished Knee Socks, admiring the numbers just beneath the surface of the stone.

Mwali nodded, as he did so Socks noticed his smile change instantly into a frown, ”I fear I’ve had call to use them only one time. As much as I hate to admit, they would be better suited in another’s hooves than in mine.”

The zebra regarded him quite seriously now. The haberdasher’s heart did a somersault in his chest and his goofy expression faltered. Surely he couldn’t be serious? Socks couldn’t imagine accepting a gift so grand. It would’ve been paramount to highway robbery to agree to such an offer, but he didn’t know that he could really refuse. It would be many nights that he cried himself to sleep before he got over letting these rare dice slip through his hooves. Even as Mwali watched, the question plain in his eyes, Socks couldn’t help but roll the dice around underhoof to admire them all the more.

“Would it... really be fine?” he asked, all but inches from sweeping them off the table to cover forever. They would be all his, forevermore, his precious.

It was brief, but the zebra definitely hesitated before nodding once more, “It would be my honor to gift them to you.”

“And... you won’t regret it, if you do?”

Mwali shrugged, “So long as you treat them well, I don’t see why I should. It’s selfish to keep them and not use them, when another pony would.”

Socks kneaded the table roughly as his morals duked it out with his greed. “Well... I’d be lying if I said I disagree, but... what dice will you use if you give these to me?”

A long pause stretched between them. Mwali was regarding him very strangely, and it took him a moment to realize why. It was as though a light bulb turned on over the stripey equine’s head and he began to chuckle.

“Forgive me once more,” he said through his mirth, “I must have begun to rhyme without realizing it at the time.”

“Oh!” Socks gave a snort, “I see what you meant when you entered my shop, once you get started it can be hard to stop.”

Mwali smirked appreciatively, “Still, for your assent I feel I owe you this gift, in way of payment. If to take them is what you choose, I still have other dice which I might use. However, if my offer you choose to shun then do not worry, for it is no harm done.”

The haberdasher couldn’t resist any longer, he had to have them. “You know all my weaknesses,” Socks said, adopting a businesslike tone. “You are a shrewd customer, Mister Mwali, and I’d be glad to take them off your hooves.”

“Then that is that.” The zebra said simply, reaching out a hoof to seal their agreement.

“One fantastic Age of Nightmare experience, in exchange for priceless emerald dice. Deal,” Socks replied, bumping Mwali’s hoof with his own.

After convincing Mwali to stay a while longer they swapped stories. Socks had relatively little to share, having been a Canterlot socialite most of his life he didn’t have many good stories that weren’t made up aside from local gossip. The haberdasher had a sneaking suspicion that his zebra companion didn’t care much what superstar modelling unicorn, Fleur De Lis, had to say about the Wonderbolts lieutenant. Not that Socks sought out that kind of information either, but word got around. In contrast Mwali had many stories of life in the savannah and the dense jungles of his homeland. It was exhillerating to talk with a pony who had actually experienced strange foreign creatures like the rhinoceros or their gangly distant relations, the giraffe. A pony who had actually experienced tribal culture and, in extreme cases, the conflicts cultural differences could spawn. The longer they spoke and the more at ease the zebra became the more Socks found himself listening, rather than sharing.

“Once my brother thought to climb atop a sunbird’s back was a clever plan, but our mother’s scolding, and a trip to the doctor, were the price of his attempt to escape the land.” Mwali chuckled, closing his eyes and thinking back to the day. “Things were very different then from what they are now. If I were to list the many ways, I would not know where to begin, or how. Far from home, across ocean and plain, I miss her very much. To go back now, though, could not be enough.”

Socks cocked his head as the zebra stared at some far-off place beyond the walls of the small break room. The haberdasher finished off the last of yet another cup of coffee in the silence that followed between them. When it became apparent that Mwali’s stories had come to an end he replied buoyantly, “You are a delightful enigma. I am certain of two things: Firstly, we’re going to have an unforgettable adventure come this Saturday, and secondly, you’ll be home before you know it.”

The zebra was not so certain. He smiled all the same, retrieving his cloak and standing to leave, “I hope so, like you would not believe. Thank you for your time, haberdasher, and for taking some of the weight off my mind.”

Socks grinned, “Well, I couldn’t just steal your dice and send you away, now could I? Tell you what, I’ll make you a hat, free of charge!”

The zebra laughed, making his way to the shop door.

“I'm serious! What's your favorite color?” asked the haberdasher, chasing after him.

Mwali’s hoof was already pushing through the entryway, “Good night, Mr. Socks. I owe a great deal to you.”

“How about a stovepipe? I do a marvelous busby!”

The zebra was gone. Socks cursed silently, but was not dissuaded. The milliner rubbed his hooves together in a conspiring fashion. One way or another he would get a hat atop the zebra’s head. Be it a busby or a bowler, or even a fez, he would find a way to put a cap upon his striped friend’s crown. Beaming to himself at the very idea, he set to work cleaning up his things. Between scheming, dealing, and getting to know Mwali better it had become quite late. Socks lamented further that he’d had no business that day, but he couldn't persuade himself that his time wasn't well spent.

Thinking of hats served to remind Socks that he still had work to do. The haberdasher paused as he went to pick up his design book, still resting on his counter, and he stared at it sternly. If he was going to agree to this, to put his all into crafting a design for Trixie, then he wanted to be absolutely certain that this book was going to cooperate this time around. Socks turned to the first page he hadn’t torn out, a design which incorporated a tall flat collar, a tailcoat design, and rather extensive embroidery all along the cape. He eyed the drawing as if it might bite him and, hesitantly, reached for a pencil with his teeth. At first his progress went slowly, but he began to pick up steam. Lines formed easily, and his eraser struck with carefully considered critique. The tailcoat design was out, Trixie wouldn't want to wander around in a penguin suit. There was something much grander beneath the simple design. For the first time all day he felt like there was a small chance that he wasn’t going to hate what he had created as soon as he stopped drawing it... or at least not until the caffeine wore off.

A/N: I hope you weren't as disappointed as I was that there was no Trixie this chapter. Socks is great fun, and Mwali's an interesting (though frustrating) character to work with, but I had a really hard time writing this chapter without throwing in at least a brief Trixie segment. Ultimately the chapter just lost focus when I tried to, so it's better to just leave it with these two. Next chapter we'll be seeing Trixie again, as well as introducing the final two members of the main cast.

As always, thanks for reading. Hope to see you in the next chapter!

Trixie's Royal Pains

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Chapter Four: Trixie’s Royal Pains

“...and furthermore! Playing a half-gargoyle merman in a setting that takes place neither in the ocean, nor a Dark Expanse, is a huge waste of everypony's time, especially Trixie's!” a frazzled azure mare exclaimed, storming out of Socks' living room.

“'Ey, I was joking,” came the northerner’s response. “At least get me a slice while you're up, will ya?”

The northerner in question was a local unicorn who went by the name Donut Joe. As his name suggested Joe was a maker of confections, he even owned a diner on the other side of the city, which specialized in the sugary dough rings he was named for. At first he seemed likable, confident yet humbly spoken. Then again he was also gruff, messy, and had no regard for personal space. The biggest atrocity, however, was how lightly he took Age of Nightmare. From the moment Joe had walked in he had been joking around with Knee Socks and Topstitch, acting as though they were there for some sort of social experiment. Trixie was the only one among them who’d dedicated those crucial pre-game moments to strategizing.

Trixie walked back through the hall, a triangle of pizza—hay and seasoned pinecone toppings—dangling from her mouth. She now wore a ridiculous over-sized bright yellow Gatsby cap atop her head, the only hat which had even come close to matching the weight and feel of her old one. Nearly to her destination, she heard two heavy knocks on the door. The unicorn slowly turned her head to look at the door, gaze full of contempt. Trixie looked back into the living room for any sign the Socks was getting up, but he was still in his own world. Clenching her pizza firmly between her teeth, gently enough that she wouldn’t bite through and drop it, she reached with a hoof to open the door. A flash of lightning temporarily lit the porch as thunder boomed, causing Trixie to jump.

The pizza clamped in her jaws slipped and fell to the ground with a dull splat. Mwali stood on the other side of the door, shrouded again in his cloak. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words were lost at the murderous intent within Trixie’s eyes. The mare said nothing, and for a moment they both stared down at the wasted food at her hooves. When she looked back up her half-lidded eyes and the gentle shake of her head made it seem like she might slam the door in his face. The awkward silence stretched between them as Mwali’s cloak slowly took on more and more water, chilling the zebra to the bone. It quickly became too much to take.

“Is this... where Knee Socks lives?” the zebra asked.

Trixie glowered a little longer before replying, “For costing Trixie her dinner, you deserve to be left outside to freeze. Enter, but be aware that you're now in Trixie's debt and Trixie charges interest on all owed favors, non-negotiable.”

The zebra chuckled a little, but stopped when he saw her serious expression. Mwali was taken aback, but he got the idea that he should play along. “I-I understand,” he said, “it was clumsy of me. I will be of service to you however I can.”

Trixie scoffed loudly, “Of course you will, stop repeating what Trixie says and shut the door.” The mare moved out of his path, allowing Mwali to step into the entryway and drip a small pool on Socks’ floor.

Without another word Trixie turned and disappeared within the kitchen again. The zebra stared after her in confusion before turning to close the door. A coat-rack hanging nearby caught his attention. Figuring that it was the polite thing to do he shed his cloak and hung it there, still dripping. Against his better instincts he also removed his warshoes, the iron-plated boots had little usefulness in Canterlot. Trixie had not returned yet, causing Mwali to wonder whether he should simply explore for himself. The zebra shook off what must’ve been the strangest introduction he’d ever experienced and followed the sound of voices towards the living room.

The living room looked like it had been converted into a war chamber. A long folding table had been laid out and was already covered in papers, pens, and books galore. Socks had laid out his game board, along with a small army of metallic figurines. Donut Joe, a light amber colored stallion with a shaggy orange mane and lazy green eyes, sat on one side.He was scanning through Age of Nightmares 2nd Edition: A Player’s Resource. Across from Joe sat a bespectacled Topstitch, engrossed in conversation with their dungeon master and admiring the shiny emerald dice between them.

Socks looked up in time to see the striped equine enter the room. “Ah! Guest of honor,” he exclaimed. “I'm so glad you could make it!”

Greetings were exchanged. Mwali found a spot beside Joe and scanned the papers on the table with a perplexed expression. The papers were mostly notes, information on the various skills, races, and items available in the game, copied down from the guidebooks as a quick reference. Mwali was somewhat lost amidst all the information. He knew that the first step was to create a character, but he wasn’t quite sure where to begin. He was, however, very aware of the three ponies staring at him since he had entered the room.

“A zebra, eh?” said Donut Joe, “Now I feel under-dressed, lookin' at those stripes.” He plucked at the white chef’s jacket he wore to emphasize, it still had sprinkles stuck to some parts of it.

“My apologies...” Mwali replied, taking it as a jeer, rather than the compliment it had been intended as.

Topstitch arched an eyebrow at the subdued response. He noticed Mwali’s lost demeanor as he sifted through the mess on the table. The seamster scooped up a blank form and floated it over to the zebra with magic, setting it down before him. “Sorry about the clutter,” he said, “Socks and Trixie are disaster experts. You can start here, there’s a list of classes somewhere, Joe can lend you that guide if you need more information.”

“Oh,” Joe offered the book quickly, “I wasn’t really readin’ anyways. Here ya go.”

Mwali began to thank him when Socks cut between the two of them, yanking the book away. He clapped Mwali on the foreleg heartily and said, “Boring stuff, Topstitch, Mwali’s played before, he doesn’t need any of this nonsense. I only brought all this out for the new players like you, and Joe.” Socks turned to face the zebra directly and said, “All you need to know is that we’re about to embark on an excursion into the realm of imagination, my friend... that, and there’s pizza in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

Topstitch rolled his eyes, “Get back to your secret lair, dungeon master.” Socks obliged with a chuckle, disappearing behind his book wall.

Mwali grimaced as his lifeline was taken away. “I can make due on my own, I suppose. Though it’d be faster if I had those,” he grumbled.

“Great, you can lend me a hand then,” said Joe, “I can't tell sprinkles from stones with this stuff. Been ages since I played a good RPG.”

The haberdasher chortled behind his fortress, “Ah, yes, Joe was saying that he's been on a binge with trading card games. Not quite the same thing, but he’s a good sport for coming back to the dark side.”

“I'm a sucker for collectibles,” the donut expert explained. A moment later he'd pulled a few cards from the collar of his jacket. “See for y'self, I think I've got the rarest cards in the city by now. Sundae Best’s got nothing on my deck.”

The cards were all backed by the same image: a blue background with a picture of a large muffin crossed by two mixers, the letters B.B. were stamped beneath that. Unbeknownst to most of those at the table Baked Bads was one of the most popular trading card games in Canterlot. Joe proudly fanned out an assortment of cards ranging from effect cards like Salt Miasma and Mech Funnel to deadly entrée cards such as the rare Red-Wine Blackened Dragon. Each card had appropriate art and a listing of their attributes and effects. The other stallions feigned polite astonishment, the significance of the cards completely lost on them.

“You guys need to broaden your horizons,” Joe continued, seeing right through their faked interest. “Heck, I'll teach ya. I may be better at card games than I am at makin' donuts.” Joe nodded, indicating the pink frosting donut on his flank. “Sometimes I wonder if I missed my calling,” he joked.

“There's quite a lot to read here...” Mwali commented as he looked down a list of alternate races scribbled on a napkin.

Joe leaned onto the table and said, “Half-gargoyle is the way to go, if you ask me.” The stallion caught a smirk from Topstitch before returning to his seat.

From the entryway a shadow was watching over them. Trixie was, again, making use of her unparalleled stealth skills to observe her comrades in their natural habitat. In particular, she watched Mwali. The zebra's unique appearance had drawn the attention of everyone in the room, he was a worse showboat than even the overdressed Knee Socks, without trying. Trixie knew he couldn't be trusted. More disturbing was the fact that Donut Joe and Mwali probably knew less about the game between the two of them than her tail did on its own.

“Trixie will not lose to that insufferable hatter because her allies don't know their flanks from their fire drakes,” she grumbled in a whisper. “Of course, Trixie expected nothing less than being forced to lead this misguided herd of hooligans. By the time Trixie is done with this sorry group they'll be a team under her glorious leadership! Team Trixie!”

A loud cough sounded from the living room. “Trixie?” Topstitch called, “Are you going to come finish your character sheet?”

“W-what?” Trixie was startled by the sudden interruption of her monologue. “Of course! Were you spying on Trixie!?”

“You make it difficult not to... you've got a great and powerful thinking-out-loud voice.” Topstitch said, smiling sympathetically.

There was another knock at the door. Trixie stared back at the front door and then towards Sock’s fortress, waiting for him to get up and greet the newcomer. Just as before, there was no sign that he had reacted in any way. Topstitch looked expectantly at the mare while Mwali glanced, confused, between Trixie and Socks.

“Bah!” Trixie exclaimed, turning away from the staring stallions and retreating back to the entry. “This is the second time Trixie's been forced to greet your guests!”

“I'll get an intercom installed next time,” Socks shouted back, “in the meantime, just try your best to seem like a humble mortal.”

Still disgruntled, she opened the door. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled, a pair of eyes flashed bright white against the darkness. Trixie lurched backwards, away from the imposing hooded figure that stood in the pouring rain. A small squeak escaped her lips. The weather must have had some sort of vendetta against Trixie, because it resumed its normal quiet raining as soon as she had recovered. She made a note to add weather to her list of enemies.

“Didn't Trixie already let you in?!” the unicorn shrieked, her voice the last thing to regain control.

The figure retreated a step, when she spoke Trixie recognized her voice as feminine. Although she spoke softly, her tone was stiff and formal, “We have... already arrived? This is Our first time upon this porch. Thou must be mistaken.”

Trixie peered at the stranger as if wondering if she had brain damage. She replied hurriedly, “N-no, Trixie only meant... someone who looks like you.”

The newcomer was at least twice her height. A mare, though? Had Socks rounded up the strangest bunch of freaks he could find - Trixie excluded, of course. On second thought, that was probably exactly what the haberdasher had done. There were probably fliers all over Canterlot proclaiming, “Freaks welcome! Come play a game with the circus of madponies.” Suddenly Trixie wasn't sure whether she should've been insulted to be weird enough that she was welcome in his home. So preoccupied by this, Trixie hadn’t thought to welcome the stranger inside yet.

The newcomer, freezing on the doorstep, broke her concentration, “We do not understand, is this not the home of Knee Socks?”

“It is,” Trixie replied.

Unimpressed with her less-than-helpful answer, the mare asked, “And you are his wife-”

With a jolt of magic the door slammed shut. The hooded mare was locked outside in the rain. Somewhere from the living room Socks asked who it had been. Trixie was halfway through a made up excuse when there were another few raps on the door. Sighing angrily, the showmare turned around and swung the door inwards once more. The hooded mare still stood there, although considerably more flustered and surprised than before.

“We misunderstood, you are his mistress then-

SLAM! The rack on the wall shook, dislodging a bowler that fell to the floor. Trixie could hear rustling from the adjacent room as Socks came to investigate, but not before three more knocks sounded against the door. These were far louder and more irritated, but Trixie's indignation had escalated with them. The unicorn opened the door a third time, preparing to give the mare a mouthful, only to be blasted backwards by a force she hadn't been prepared for. The world around her was enveloped in sound. Trixie was only aware of a booming voice and the hallway rushing past her in reverse.

“THOU WOULD BE WISE NOT TO REPEAT THINE ACTIONS, WE COMETH UNTO YOUR ABODE WITH HONEST INTENT. HOWEVER, WE DEMAND TO BE TREATED WITH RESPECT AS BEFITS OUR ROYAL STATUS.”

At the other end of the hallway Trixie was seeing stars. Looking up, the mare recovered her Gatsby from where it had fallen beside her. The mare in the doorway stepped over the threshold and out of the rain. The door closed behind her with a snap, guided by magic. Trixie wasn’t sure what sort of spell the newcomer had used to bowl her over, but she refused to be intimidated. Teeth gritted and brows held at a dangerous slant, Trixie got to her hooves and rounded on the stranger.

“How dare you! One does not simply shout at The Great and Powerful Trixie. She, who has single-hoofedly vanquished an Ursa Major, saved countless small children from rampaging vamponies, and flawlessly executed a god-tier Age of Nightmare campaign with a fractured horn. Do you know how difficult it is to roll dice with a fractured horn?! Who do you think you are to challenge one so magnificent as Trixie?”

The mare pulled back her hood. Her coat was midnight, and her mane flowed as a spectrum of every color the night sky at any given hour. Stars twinkled within its ethereal depths. Dark cyan eyes bored into Trixie’s own, they spoke volumes about their owner. More than a millennium’s worth of knowledge was stored within them, as well as the regal authority she had earned throughout her long lifetime. It almost seemed unnecessary to look any longer, to see her magnificent wings folded against her slim form or the tall horn that set her apart from any simple pegasus. Trixie’s eyes were locked on the small black tiara atop the alicorn’s head.

Trixie’s knees buckled beneath her. She fell back on her flank with an expression of pure shock and terror. As Luna stepped towards her, looming like some nightmare angel, an unnatural scream reached Trixie’s lips, “Topstiiitch, HELP MEEE.”

Luna’s eyes widened in shock and then confusion. A cacophony of noises came from the living room, Joe shouted something about being careful and fast-approaching hooves followed. The princess of the night took a step backwards, holding up a hoof as if unsure whether to help or not. Trixie was still screaming when Topstitch appeared in the archway, glasses askew and mane disheveled. It was the first time in over a decade he’d heard Trixie admit that she needed help, which was cause enough to believe she was about to have her head lopped off. When, instead of an axe-wielding murderer, he saw the sovereign of the moon and stars he wasn’t sure how to react.

“P-Princess! What are you doing here?” he stammered, falling clumsily into a bow.

There was another scream. This one contorted into a wail of delight, announcing the arrival of Knee Socks. The haberdasher was on his hind legs, hopping from side to side with uncontainable excitement. “You're the mystery guest! You're the last player! This is too much, I can't bear it!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to kiss the ground at the princess's hooves.

“W-We are sorry!” Princess Luna said, stiffness left behind as an anxious desperation entered her voice. “We did not mean to cause alarm, please, may we try again?”

There was a loud squeak, a delayed shout of surprise, and then Joe was there as well. The confectioner had slipped and barreled into the hallway, tripping over Topstitch and landing on his belly with his legs splayed in all directions. The donut maker looked up dimly at the remorseful princess and could only say, “Holy dough rings!”

Trixie was still paralyzed, her expression frozen in horror. She had only just managed to stop screaming, having run out of air. Had she really just insulted Princess Luna? A royal alicorn, patron saint of the moon and the night, the one formerly known as Nightmare Moon, a goddess in her own right. Nothing was adding up, she tried to count to ten to ease her mind but somehow an eleven crept into her thoughts and then an 'E' and several 'R's that had no business pretending to be numbers in the first place. Trixie tried to make sense of the situation, when a revelation hit her.

“...Trixie just shouted at a monarch,” the awestruck mare mumbled, barely over a whisper. “Trixie is... truly... the greatest, boldest, most imperceptibly amazing and talented unicorn... who ever lived! Hah!”

In a second she was on her hooves. Trixie reared up, reaching for the heavens themselves as she unleashed a long cackle that had been building up in her breast. The laugh drew the eyes of all in the hallway, and it showed no signs of stopping. Suddenly Trixie had no mind for the house around her, in her world she was soaring atop her griffon in the clouds, traversing the land as nopony besides herself had dared to travel. It was liberating without compare, and more fulfilling than she could dream. Just wait until she used that in her next act, Trixie, who shouted in the face of deities and lived to tell the tale.

“Y-your Highness, Princess Luna, why are you here?” Topstitch asked, not quite believing the situation.

Joe waved a hoof in front of Trixie’s face, somewhat frightened of her cackling. She didn’t even react.

The princess had to speak over Trixie’s fit, “We- I mean, I, wish to join in your game. I have long had an interest in the concept of role-play, however my sister finds herself likewise inexperienced in the matter. She suggested that I join the ponies of Canterlot instead...”

“I couldn't possibly say no!” whimpered Knee Socks, still laying on the ground before her. He was practically drooling on the floor, already laying in a puddle that had dripped off of Luna’s cloak.

In the light of all that had happened in such a short time, Luna began to doubt her sister’s advice. She knew that there were strange ponies in Equestria, colorful in ways other than their pastel coats, but this was pushing it. Socks was crying, Trixie was laughing, Donut Joe was poking Trixie’s cheek as if she might deflate like a balloon. All this and still they hadn’t looked past her royal bearing. Celestia always encouraged her to seek out new friendships, but Luna thought that her sister didn’t truly appreciate how difficult that was when other ponies felt compelled to bow, or scream, when they saw her.

“D-do you know what Age of Nightmare is about?” Topstitch asked.

The princess nodded, “It is the people's interpretation of what should have followed had Nightmare Moon triumphed over my sister a thousand years ago. It is also my wish to familiarize myself with the myths surrounding Nightmare Moon and my absence. Celestia thought it wise to begin at the furthest extreme of its manifestation: the fictional reimagining.”

“Excuse me?” Trixie replied, abruptly snapping out of her insanity and falling on all fours to stare down the royal guest. “You mean to imply to Trixie you've never even played Nightmare before?”

“I've been away for some time,” Luna replied pseudo-apologetically, adding curtly, “I have not had time to experience many of the games played by today’s Equestria. Rest assured, though, for I am a quick learner.”

The unicorn gave a yell of frustration and departed the group. They stared blankly after her. Nothing was going the way Trixie had hoped, her elation at having stood up to a goddess was quickly burning away. She stomped back into the living room, ignoring Mwali’s stare. The zebra had hardly shifted an inch despite all the commotion, but he was smiling at her as she reentered the room. Trixie threw herself onto the cushion she had claimed earlier, levitated a quill to the character form in front of her, and set back to work wordlessly.

The others followed soon after, with a hesitant Luna on their heels. Topstitch gave Trixie a friendly pat on the top of her Gatsby, causing her to stick out her tongue sourly as he took his seat again, still shaky from the sudden events. Luna was shepherded to the seat on Trixie’s right, and immediately had an empty character sheet shoved under her muzzle. The princess glanced at Trixie just in time to catch the azure mare’s heated look before the unicorn’s eyes locked back onto her paper. Luna risked a tense wave at the others, wondering if she should introduce herself formally or not.

Knee Socks soon arrived back a the head of the table to solve her quandary. The earth pony stood on his hind legs and banged on the table to grab their attention. “Mares and gentle-stallions,” the haberdasher called, “Allow me to properly introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Luna! It seems my reputation – no surprises here – attracted her eye and she's along for the ride, play nicely and no one goes to the Canterlot dungeon.”

Luna’s lip quivered. That wasn’t exactly the introduction she had hoped for.

After a moment's hesitation Joe reached across the table to shake hooves, “It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness, I'm Donut Joe and I'll just say my donuts are the best in Canterlot. If you're ever hankering for a sugary morsel I'll fix you up our special, on the house.” Joe beamed, imagining the business boom that would bring.

“My name is Mwali,” said the zebra to Joe’s right. He also reached across the table to shake, a smirk playing on his face. “I didn’t expect to meet royalty.”

Taking a deep breath Luna shook the hooves of both players in turn. Introductions went smoothly from there, Topstitch followed, introducing himself and Trixie both, and explained that she was visiting the city. Socks elaborated on himself, telling them about his shop and glossing over his extensive history as a dungeon master. The more at ease Luna became the more foul Trixie’s mood grew, once again they had all been distracted from the main point of their gathering, and it was only getting later and later in the evening.

It seemed Socks had noticed the time too. Once everyone was settled he led by example and sat to quietly finish his work, prompting the others to do the same. Topstitch became Luna’s impromptu handler, assisting the princess in making sense of the copious amounts of information on the table before them. Joe and Mwali likewise were conspiring on their characters, the former shooting teasing looks at Trixie whenever she made a disgruntled noise at one of his suggestions or jokes. Little by little they were all inching towards completion.

Eventually Topstitch, who seemed done with his character, broke the silence. “What’ve you two come up with?” he asked, indicating Joe and Mwali’s sheets.

“I'm thinkin' a fighter,” Joe said, chewing on a pen as he eyed the sheet before him. “If I take these 'hex' things I can use magic as an earth pony too.”

Trixie sighed, chewing on the tip of her quill as she replied, “If you take the spellsword specialization instead you’ll get a natural bonus to combat magic. Furthermore, if you take a feat in battle nerves the modifier to your attack applies to rolls for magic checks as well.”

Across the table Topstitch stared at her, nonplussed and surprised by her helpful reply. As much as Trixie hated that she was the only one who seemed serious about doing well, she wasn’t going to take it out on the others by withholding tips. Her sole hope of beating Socks at his own game and proving who was the better Nightmare player lay in the hooves of the four novices surrounding her. At her suggestion Joe looked down at a slip of paper beside him, double-checking what she had said and eventually giving an affirming grunt and crossing something off of his character sheet.

The mare ignored him, looking to Mwali next. The zebra was pointedly staring at his own sheet, avoiding Topstitch’s question. Trixie cleared her throat and prodded him with the tip of her quill. Mwali jumped, looking up in time to see her resigned expression. “Trixie supposes you haven't got a clue what you're doing either,” she said, regarding him wryly. “Out with it, Trixie will gladly correct your mistakes.”

“I picked the illusionist class?” said Mwali, phrasing his statement as if it were a question.

Trixie offered him a dry blink as she considered his words. Thoughts composed, she replied, “Normally Trixie would say that's a waste of time... but you’re already an extra party member. So long as the others fill out their roles, an illusionist could come in handy, so you’re not completely wrong. Trixie would recommend taking a feat in martial weapons, however. Illusionists are notoriously pathetic in combat.”

Socks coughed loudly, drawing her gaze, “Trix, sweetheart, would you mind letting them pick for themselves?”

“Trixie,” she emphasized, “isn't forcing them to do anything. It only makes sense that Trixie should oversee the others, as she is clearly the most talented player here.”

Socks grinned despite himself, the haberdasher sank back behind his divider without another word. Against his better instincts he allowed Trixie to offer her advice as the others worked on their characters. Once she’d been given a little slack and the opportunity to show off Trixie even began to enjoy the company of her cohorts. With Trixie micromanaging everyone else they got done much more quickly as well. Time flew, and Socks was glad to see that everyone was enjoying themselves a little more than before.

Once they were all prepared Socks stood, beckoning for their ears. The others politely finished what they were doing and dropped their writing utensils. Socks began boisterously, “Now that we’re all settled in, it’s about time we get started. Things are running a little late, but I’ll ease you into it. First thing’s first, the house rules: 1.) If Trixie bullies you, you have my permission to unleash divine retribution upon her,” Socks eyed Luna in particular at this. The princess smirked and nodded. “2.) If Trixie tries to kill you, in-game or out, she gets an instant time-out.”

Trixie tapped her hoof impatiently, “Do all your house rules have to do with Trixie?”

“Rule 3.) Refreshments and snacks are Trixie’s responsibility to fetch. And that’s all I’ve got on rules.” Socks winked down the table.

“That’s not fair!” Trixie barked, banging a hoof on the table.

Socks went on heedlessly, “I'd like everyone to introduce themselves, in-character, before we get started. Trixie, I'm sure you're just tickled at the thought of showing off sooo,” Trixie leaned forwards, gathering up her character sheet and a few other papers. As she opened her mouth Socks finished, “Mwali goes first! We'll go 'round the table from there.”

The showmare huffed, relaxing back on her cushion, “Have your fun! Trixie will enjoy having the last laugh either way.”

The zebra had chosen an illusionist named Volikhar, who had been run out of his home by Nightmare soldiers and was forced to hide in the forests. The others clapped politely after Mwali’s short introduction, and Joe stood to take his turn. Donut Joe was playing an earth pony spellsword by the name of Splinty Wiggledorf. Joe went on to explain that he had been the bodyguard of one of the lords within Nightmare Moon’s court. Eventually Splinty was excommunicated for insubordination, escaping capture and taking up adventuring in his spare time in hopes of atoning for what he’d done. The others clapped again.

Topstitch was playing a unicorn by the name of Barbas Shortsnout. He had been a healer who worked for the Nightmarist regime, like Trixie. However, after witnessing the atrocities of their acts he sought to leave them and join the rebellion. When he was found out Barbas had his horn snapped so that he couldn’t use magic ever again. Nevertheless, he traveled into the woods and familiarized himself with the natural remedies of the world and began supporting the rebellion as both a ranger and a doctor.

Trixie rolled her eyes at them, clapping half-heartedly. Typical, everyone wanted to play some sort of victim of Nightmare Moon’s rule. Never thinking outside the box, well, Trixie would solve that disturbing trend. Luna was next up, she stood to introduce her character, ‘Lady Lunamoon’ was a knight who had been a young child during the final days of Celestia’s rule. As Lunamoon grew up in the twisted world of Nightmare Equestria she vowed to do her part in restoring the land and protecting the ponies within it. Predictably, she was a member of the rebellion as well. There was something else wrong, however.

“Wait a moment,” Trixie interrupted, shoving her character sheet up against Luna’s nose. “You copied the name of Trixie’s character!”

Luna read the document before her, innocence plain on her features. Finishing her read, she pushed the document away with her magic, “Thou art mistaken, Great and Powerful Trixie, thy character is ‘Lulamoon’ whereas Ours is ‘Lunamoon’. We forgive thee for thine accusation, however.”

Trixie was broiling. The princess had to be toying with her, though she appreciated the use of her full title. “They’re only one letter apart!” Trixie complained, “My character’s name has been filled out since the moment I got here, it’s the name Trixie always uses!”

“We are sorry if thou thinkest it was Us who stole thy name, but We merely picked the first name to come to Us. Lulamoon is a fine name, and We believe that there will be no mistaking the two characters.” Luna smiled kindly, obviously thinking that was the end of it.

Topstitch, knowing Trixie better, attempted to waylay the next step of the argument. “Trixie, why don’t you tell us Lulamoon’s story?” he asked.

“Silence, traitor!” squawked Trixie, “I, Countess Lulamoon de Fleur Mariotte, am a high ranking battlemage within the Nightmare Court! The rebellion is nothing but trash to one with status such as mine. I was born on the same night that Nightmare Moon came to power, the catalyst behind the greatest magical phenomenon of the era. Imbued with her nightmare magic, I became an instant prodigy and was swiftly taken from my home to be groomed as one of her lieutenants. Though I have yet to attain the highest level of unicorn magic, it is only a matter of time before I destroy the ridiculous rebellion and take my place as Nightmare Moon’s chief general.”

There was a long pause as Trixie stared them each down in turn. Socks smacked his face with his hoof. He realized that he really should’ve paid more attention to what each of them was doing with their characters.

Princess Luna banged on the table with such force as to leave a dent. “Thou art an agent of the Nightmare Court? Then thou art Our sworn enemy, and a tyrant over all Equestria. Tell Us, Great and Powerful Lulamoon, is this the truth?”

“... Wut?” said Socks.

“Oh please,” Trixie replied, adopting an aristocratic accent, “I have been with a Nightmarist since the day I was born! It was your own choice to join the rabble and tempt your own doom.”

Luna narrowed her eyes, “Some ponies do not bow before tyranny! We value honor, and fight against those who would oppress the freedom of Our people,” the princess took a deep breath and bellowed in her royal voice, “THE REBELLION SHALL BE VICTORIOUS!”

Trixie fixed her now windswept mane and snorted, “Obviously your 'Lunamoon' lacks adaptability. Anypony can see that the rebellion is a hopeless sham, they don’t even gain a proper foothold against the Nightmarists until the Tartarus Unleashed expansion.”

“Thou speaketh visions of the future, witch of the Nightmare Court. We shall see thee burned when thy regime falls!”

The others watched in utter astonishment. Trixie and Luna were now nearly butting heads, further spats of roleplayed malice flying between them. Socks knew he should break them up, but it seemed like a shame to end it now that they were finally getting into the swing of things. Instead it was Topstitch who wedged himself between the two of them. The stallion regarded Trixie as though she were insane, and Luna with simple bewilderment. He never would have expected the princess to be so easily carried away by a game.

“Good character, Trixie,” Topstitch said, clapping quickly and hoping to move them onwards. “Let’s calm down and let Socks have the floor.”

“Sheesh,” said Joe, “Trix, you’ve got your character down to an art.”

“It's Trixie! But thank you, Lulamoon appreciates your appreciation,” Trixie gushed.

“Okay, okay!” Socks chided, “Let's get moving along, fillies, lots to do here. We all know each other, moving along.”

Trixie settled back into her seat, making a slashing gesture across her throat and jabbing a hoof at Luna. The princess recoiled, looking around as if there were someone over her shoulder. After a moment's hesitation she raised her hooves, held them within an inch of each other, and smashed them together. As Luna ground the bottoms of her hooves together she glowered at Trixie before pointing back at her. Not to be outdone, Trixie mimed a noose being tied around her neck and lolled her tongue out of her mouth dumbly before pointing at the princess again. Luna's brow curved downwards and she began to shake visibly as she acted out with her hooves a pony walking pleasantly along before plummeting off a steep cliff. Luna jabbed her hoof back at Trixie.

Topstitch cleared his throat loudly. Trixie looked at him, halfway through miming a sea of flames that would engulf Luna's body. The unicorn was waving her hooves like a madmare when she realized everyone was staring at the two of them again. Trixie returned her gaze to Luna, pointed sharply at her, and then turned away before the royal could retaliate.

“Right,” Topstitch muttered, plainly vexed, “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

“Hear, hear!” Joe offered.

Socks heaved a sigh of relief. “You five are a hoot. Alright, everyone ready to start?”

A round of nods went around the table.

“Alright,” Socks cleared his throat and read from a stack of papers. “On a rainy night you find yourselves in the village Stars Hollow, taking refuge within the Two Laurels Tavern. You’ve all come here for your own reasons, but fate has brought you together. In the tavern the atmosphere is choked, and the patrons all cast nervous glances towards a contingent of heavily armored unicorns taking up most of the floor. The Nightmarists have been staying in the village for some time now, and you’ve each noticed them leading daily patrols into the nearby forests.” The haberdasher flipped a page, checked something, and continued, “Topstitch, your local knowledge skill means you’ve heard the rumors around town that a group of diamond dogs, based somewhere in the forest, have been troubling Stars Hallow.”

Trixie grumbled, “Trixie could’ve hoped for a more original opening...”

The haberdasher rolled his eyes and continued, “Classics are classic for a reason, my dear. The five of you are now free to act of your own will.”

Trixie opened her mouth to speak, only to be blocked out as Luna lunged into the air, raising her hoof like a school filly. She yelled, “It is Our intent to engage the Nightmarist soldiers in a duel of honor!”

The showmare growled, “In that case, Trixie- Lulamoon would like to support the Nightmarist soldiers, I will start by setting the tavern on fire with a creeping flame spell.”

A dull thud shook the table. Unbeknownst to the others, Socks had just let his head smack into the surface.

Joe's hoof inched towards his dice, “Soo, we're fighting right? I'm gonna help Lunamoon, since I left the Nightmarists and all.”

“I don’t think we’re fighting,” Topstitch replied as he rubbed his temple.

“We have rolled a thirteen!” Luna announced. Trixie moved her hoof to cover the eleven on her own azure-painted twenty-sided die.

Socks groaned, “We're not fighting. Lulamoon isn't working with the Nightmare soldiers. Luna, I'm afraid your character is still a little too weak to fight an entire platoon of trained fighters on your own... so let's try this again. You find yourselves in the tavern, utterly calm and not intending to start a fight or damage the property, aaand go.”

Trixie slumped forward onto her hooves, already prepared for the railroading of a lifetime.

A/N: I felt like this chapter was a little bit long-winded at parts. Kind of slow. To be honest, this is the streamlined version. I chopped out a lot of the introduction scene towards the end. Hopefully if you're not familiar with table-top RPGs like D&D, Pathfinder, and the like you're still with us. I promise we're getting to the nitty gritty fantasy adventure pretty soon. You won't have to worry much longer about 'feats' and stat bonuses and dice.

I still don't have a pre-reader, editor, anything of the like, so hopefully this isn't a disastropiece. I take care to fix what I can, but no one is perfect. If you see any flaws, point 'em out for me.

Thanks for sticking around! See you next chapter.

Easing Them In

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Chapter Five: Easing Them In

Once they'd established that there was no possibility of killing, maiming, burning, cutting up, crushing, poisoning, robbing, or otherwise inconveniencing the Nightmarist soldiers things progressed much more smoothly. Luna and Trixie had found peace for long enough to work together and interrogate the people of the fictional town, albeit a little more forcefully than was necessary. Rumors were abound that Stars Hallow was suffering nightly attacks from a giant monster, which was kidnapping their children. Despite the many claims, no one had actually seen a creature. It was rumored that the diamond dogs from the nearby woods were behind it, and Luna was insisting that they investigate further.

"Why would Lulamoon help any more than she already has?” Trixie inquired with an airy tone. “Stars Hallow is clearly a rebel province, Lulamoon doesn’t care about traitors.”

"Awh, have a heart," Joe replied, "there’s foals being taken.”

As had been the standard, Luna was taking the situation more seriously than the stallion. “Thou have already seen the cruel ways of the Nightmarists. Surely your newfound companions have shown you there is merit in fighting on the side of freedom and goodness?" Luna's eyes twinkled as she leaned towards the showmare imploringly.

This was one of many similar exchanges, due to them the group was making little progress on their investigation. They’d already had several small skirmishes with Nightmare soldiers and villagers alike. Topstitch had been elected the party diplomat after Trixie attempted to raze a farm when the owner wouldn’t give her the location of the local rebellion. With him in charge they were actually beginning to make progress, rather than stumbling from each pointless scuffle to the next.

Progress in their quest led them into the heart of the woods. They’d heard enough accounts of canine creatures being spotted on the outskirts of the village. With little more than educated guesses they resigned themselves to searching for the diamond dogs, hoping to take a patrol hostage at Trixie’s advice. The showmare had taken tactical command of the adventure, using her companions as one would a flashlight or a compass.

"Volikhar, detect life essence,” commanded Trixie, invoking her upper-crust Lulamoon voice. She stared at Mwali expectantly.

Socks popped up from his cardboard fortress until only the top half of his eyes were visible. He stared at Trixie and spoke exasperatedly, "Trix, you know you could do that yourself, right?"

Trixie feigned appall, "Magic is a limited daily resource, how can Trixie support her party if she's wasting magic on detection spells?"

With a small shake of his head Socks looked back at Mwali to confirm he was okay with it. The zebra gave a short nod and Socks disappeared once more. The sound of rolling dice was heard behind his screen. Mwali had been silent for most of the evening, Trixie noticed. It seemed like he was overwhelmed with all the game jargon, but that suited the showmare just fine. It meant that she could use his character however she wished as if it were an extension of her own. Socks, however, had his doubts about her system. The zebra rolled his own dice to see if he could beat the haberdasher’s result.

"Good roll, nineteen," Socks muttered, looking over his screen to confirm the number. “Right. The patrol you’ve been after changed course, they’re to your east now. There’s also a cave bear nearby.”

“What can you tell us about the bear?” Trixie shouted, lunging across the table. “Knowledge check, arcane!”

Socks rolled his eyes, “Mwali doesn’t even have that skill.”

“What concern is a common bear to our quest?” Luna asked.

“We’re in a forest,” said Trixie, her stare hard like a club to the head. “There are all sorts of animals around, Socks wouldn’t mention a bear if it wasn’t important. Now, TO THE CAVE!” Trixie pointed towards the sky in the direction of her imaginary objective.

“We should probably focus on our job,” said Topstitch, aware that he was treading on landmines. “Unless you really think the cave bear is important.”

Trixie nodded her head vehemently, “Caves have loot, if we don't travel off the hatter's finely crafted rails we'll miss out on all the treasure. Trixie won't allow it.”

Luna pounded a hoof on the table. "Is thy heart non-existent, Lulamoon? While thy thirst for riches is sated, the good people of Nightmare Equestria suffer. What will it take to make thee our ally?”

“A lot of gold, and a much more reliable rebellion,” replied Trixie smugly.

The princess sighed, “You leave Us no choice, Great and Powerful Trixie. We shall pursue the diamond dogs while thou may follow thine own path.”

"Never split the party!" Trixie wailed, waving a threatening hoof at all those assembled.

Joe shrugged, “Y’know, we can get more done. If some of us stick around we can get an idea of what the diamond dogs are up to, an’ the other group can load up on goods. Could be a pretty sweet idea.”

"Never. Split. The. Party." Trixie replied, accentuating each word with a poke. "Trixie knows best, she has championed more campaigns than your pony minds can comprehend."

Thunder rumbled outside, causing nearly everyone to jump. The noise shook the walls and table so that their dice bounced about it. After her two previous encounters with lightning that evening Trixie was convinced the weather was out to get her. The trembles in the floor set her teeth chattering. The others had almost forgotten about the storm entirely by that point, though it had heightened significantly since they began to play. Socks decided to take that chance to call for a break, before Trixie and the others could continue arguing. As soon as the showmare attempted to excuse herself for a drink, however, she was quickly besieged by the other ponies’ beverage requests.

“That was a good start, I think,” Socks said, standing to stretch at the grumbling mare left the room. “Everyone enjoying themselves?”

A flurry of approval went around the table. Socks appreciated it, but things had gone quite far from how he had planned. It had been such a long time since he’d hosted a game that he’d forgotten how easily a group of players could derail a story. They’d been playing nearly an hour already and the group had only just started to explore the woods. It weighed on his mind that he had so much left in his notebook that was going to be wasted if they didn’t pick up the pace.

Luna interrupted his thoughts, “This form of game is more fun than I had anticipated. I can see now why Trixie enjoys it to such an extent.”

"You're more than welcome to come back!” Socks replied, his usual delight returning in leaps and bounds. “In fact, I beg you to.”

"Yeah," Donut Joe piped in, "I just wish we could do a little more fightin'."

"Never fear, I've got absolutely oodles of plans for you five." Socks gave a conspiratorial laugh, unsettling the donut maker.

Luna spoke again, “Do we really intend to follow through Trixie’s plan to visit the cave bear? What use could an animal have for riches?”

“Perhaps she is loud,” said Mwali, voice croaking slightly from the silence he’d been stewing in. “but it is true that she has played these games more than any of us. I, for one, would trust her judgment.”

“She’s a hoot,” cooed Socks as he flipped through his notes, looking for ways to speed things up.

The haberdasher was distracted, however, by the eerie green glow sweeping over his papers. Socks cocked his head to the side as he looked up at his players for the source. Joe, Luna, and Topstitch were in the midst of a hockey game on the table utilizing a crumpled ball of paper as the puck and their magic to propel it across the table. Their horns were all glowing, but none were green. Socks looked back at the table in time to see his emerald dice flicker faintly.

“Mwali,” said the shocked haberdasher, “you never told me these were magical...”

The zebra turned slowly to face him. When Mwali saw the dice in Socks’ hoof his eyes went wide, his gaze flopping briefly between Socks and the dice before settling on the former. “T-they’re not, so far as I know.”

“Reeally?” the haberdasher simpered, scratching his chin as he took a closer look.

They had caught the attention of the others by that time. Luna had replaced her childlike grin at the game of paper hockey with a small frown. As Topstitch and Joe looked at the twenty-sided die as well though, it quickly dimmed. A hush fell over them, waiting for something else to happen. Socks dropped the die on the table, and five pairs of eyes tracked it as it rolled across the surface and came to a halt. It was just as dark as it had been when Mwali gave him the set.

Socks tittered with delight as he figured it out first, “It reacted to your magic, Your Highness!”

“What do you mean?” asked Topstitch.

The stallion explained, “Magic, you were all using magic!”

“Why did they not react before?” said Luna as she reached out to scoop up the die. It was warm to the touch. “All of us were using magic whilst we made our characters.”

Luna rolled the die to and fro between her hooves. It seemed ordinary enough, but she couldn’t imagine anyone enchanting dice to glow around magic. It wasn’t a practical light source if it took that much magic to use it in the first place. Luna’s horn glowed faintly as she reached out toward the die, probing it gently with her magic in an effort to detect its own. There was nothing there, the object was just as dead as anything else in the room. That alone was worrying.

“Maybe we should put those away, Socks. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’d feel better if you use another set,” said Topstitch.

Luna blinked, severing the flow of her magic. Topstitch’s suggestion seemed wise, but it didn’t sate her curiosity. Changing tactics, she used an information spell on Socks’ dice, including all of them in her magical grasp this time. The whole set resonated, glowing just slightly at the powerful magic it took to read their purpose. Luna closed her eyes, concentrating on the well of knowledge flowing into her mind, and was astounded to find nothing. The princess looked around again, clearly becoming frustrated as her efforts were met with nothing. Socks and the others looked fascinated, apart from Mwali. The zebra’s apprehension was palpable.

Abruptly, several thing happened. Trixie returned, bearing half a dozen drinks in her telekinetic grip. Luna felt a shock run through her body, and found herself unable to sever her magic. The dice exploded with light, glowing with the brilliance of tiny green stars. Mwali fell out of his seat, fumbling to escape the spectacle as Socks whooped loudly in both alarm and pleasant surprise. The dice began thrumming loudly. Luna stood up and tried to move away, but the dice had bound her with some invisible tether. They were not only using her magic, they were absorbing it little by little, growing brighter and brighter.

“Hatter!” Trixie grunted, dropping all the drinks to the floor, “What ridiculous sort of stunt are you trying to pull now? The Great and Powerful Trixie can hardly be impressed with cheap illusions.”

“It’s out of my hooves” Socks cried, “I haven’t the slightest clue what’s happening... oh but it’s exciting.”

Rolling her eyes the unicorn mare reached out to snag the dice from Luna with her own magic.

“Trixie, halt!” Luna shouted, but it was too late.

Trixie’s eyes went wide as she felt the same shock as Luna. The showmare recoiled immediately, trying to pull herself out of the room and shut out all traces of magic. The strain of fighting back felt like it might tear her horn straight out of her head, causing Trixie to wince and yelp. It was no use, she was attached to the dice the same as Luna. The whole set took to the air and began to rotate slowly, like a little green solar system diorama. The others had began a panicked frenzy as well, trying to wrest the dice from the air or pull Luna away from it. Topstitch was tugging on Trixie’s head like a lunatic, with no results besides a thoroughly agitated mare.

Meanwhile Mwali was edging around the table, eyes trapped on the spectacle before them. Fear was plain on his features, he was about to bolt for the exit. Well, not on Trixie’s watch. As soon as the zebra started to move the unicorn mustered her strength into her haunches and launched herself at him. They connected in a spinning heap of fur as she pinned him to the ground. Had he not been so confused by her sudden attack, her might’ve realized how easily he could throw her off.

“Let me go, you pony fool!” he shouted.

Even in the face of danger Trixie shook her head stubbornly. She yelled as Socks’ dice began to thrum louder and louder, filling the whole house with the noise,“Where do you think you're going? You are Trixie's slave, and Trixie demands that you fix this!”

“Get off, you lunatic mare,” Mwali spat, “Let me go or else, I swear-

“OH BY ALL MEANS, RHYME TRIXIE TO DEATH,” the mare bellowed, clinging to Mwali as he began to fight back.

“Guys, keep calm,” Joe called out, “I'm gonna figure this out.”

Instead of attempting to use magic Joe was futilely attempting to yank the dice out of the sky. All he accomplished was swinging around the room in a wide circle, clinging to a six-sided die with both hooves.

“Okay,” said Joe, panting, “maybe not.”

Luna gasped for air, “Do not fear! My sister will feel the disturbance, she and the royal mages can stop this if we can hold on.”

If her heart held even half of the conviction that was in her voice Luna wouldn’t have been so afraid as she was. The princess was terrified. Papers flew around in a small storm as the noise from the dice grew to a dull roar. Despite all this, Luna could still feel no magic coming from the objects. It would’ve been impossible for anyone else to sense them. Whatever they had begun showed no signs of stopping, and the chaos the others were causing was only making it worse. Trixie was pumping more and more magic into to the dice as she struggled with Mwali, forgetting that she was supposed to be fighting the tether. Luna shouted to them, but her voice was lost.

The glowing of the dice reached a crescendo. Everypony was temporarily blinded and rushed to cover their eyes. The sensation of flying gripped all of them, and unable to see anything they were clueless as to whether that was really the case. Sickening dizziness began as the room felt like it was spinning, spinning down through a blizzard that left them all shivering. The only noise was the overwhelming sound of the dice vibrating in the air somewhere in the center of all of them. Topstitch was calling out for both Socks and Trixie but his voice went unheard. Still, amidst all the noise and chaos, within her mind Trixie felt solace. Solace in the fact that there were worse ways to go out than playing Age of Nightmare.

* * *

Luckily that didn't come to pass. There was a loud and uncomfortably familiar crack. The green light was gone and the buzzing of the dice had ceased entirely. The floating feeling dissipated before it stopped entirely and Trixie felt her body thump onto solid ground. The sounds of roaring wind and sensation of icy rain had been replaced with intermittently chirping birds and the noise of grass rustling underhoof. The showmare forced her eyes open, seeing blades of green parted by her muzzle and further ahead a copse of trees which surrounded her from all sides.

It only took Trixie a moment to jump to her hooves. Instantly, she realized something else was different. The weight on her form had doubled at least, and soft fabric slid against her coat as she shifted to look herself over. A cloak of deep royal purple lay over her back and shoulders, hemmed with runed silver lining, with a bunched up neckline and pleating across the bottom that made it look like a pair of wings. A massive insignia dominated the middle of the garment, a crescent moon crossed with a star scepter across the lower arc, Trixie's own cutie mark. In addition to the cape she wore hefty armor plates on her forelegs, and thick metal boots over her back hooves, both in shades of royal blue and lined with pale gold.

Hesitantly, Trixie reached for her hat and examined it. Gone was the eight-panel yellow monstrosity. It was a true witch's hat. Dark purple to match the cape, and hemmed in silver around the extra-wide brim. There was a band of braided gold rope around the base of the crown and the same dangling from the tip of the hat, affixed to golden star. Trixie's cutie mark was again stitched into the article, embroidered in silver thread on the front-left of the crown. There were no holes, no scuffs, no ragged inner lining. Trixie could see no stains or blemishes or imperfections of any kind. The hat was pristine, gorgeous, and best of all: free.

After giving the accessory a brief hug she secured it tightly upon her head. Freed of her awe, Trixie surveyed her surroundings in the clearing. Mwali was laying nearby, his trappings had similarly changed and augmented into a rune-covered robe-like ensemble. The zebra was shaking himself off and glaring at Trixie with unchecked distaste. The mare was taken off guard, with little more than a change in expression the zebra now seemed like an entirely different pony. It piqued her curiosity, true, but mostly... mostly it ticked her off.

“Save your glares for somepony who cares,” she said, poking her nose at the sky. “You've got nothing on Trixie.”

Trixie's horn began to glow as she focused magic into a detection spell. A faint glimmer appeared before her eyes, invisible to Mwali, and spread out from the point where she stood. The circle slowly grew until, with a painful twinge to her horn, it expanded rapidly to encompass everything around them. Trixie winced as the spell went completely haywire, she cut off her magic and rubbed her aching temple as the clearing returned to normal. The mare growled and kicked at the leaves on the ground. Cheap detection spells, that was the last time she swapped secrets with another showpony.

“It didn't work,” Mwali commented, a notable lack of surprise. “Even you should be able to figure out what happened.”

Trixie retorted the only way she could think of, by sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry at Mwali. Still rubbing her head, she put some serious thought into it. The clothing, their surroundings, it was all familiar. Trixie felt as though she'd been wandering through the woods for hours, though she'd only just woken up there. Then there were the birds, chirping away like it was early morning despite the darkened sky. It even smelled like morning. The moon itself shone far more brightly than Trixie could ever remember, and it was absolutely huge. It clicked in her brain at the same time as she heard hoofsteps tromping away.

“We're in the game,” she muttered. Turning around, she saw that Mwali was leaving her behind and wandering off in a seemingly random direction. Trixie hurried to catch the zebra, pulling ahead of him and shaking his broad shoulders spastically, “That explains why Trixie's magic didn't work, Trixie doesn't even know why she doubted herself... that insane clothier has dragged us all into his game world.”

With some effort the zebra pried himself free. “We don't have time to be playing about, follow me closely and I'll find us a way to get out.”

“Out? Trixie joined this charade to prove she was a better Nightmare player than Socks, and Trixie isn't leaving just like that. Follow Trixie and she will undoubtedly lead you to victory.”

The zebra regarded her incredulously. Exactly how was he supposed to get through to this mare? Even a jackhammer would probably go dull before it cracked her head. “Perhaps you have the time to sit and play around, but in this, and many other things, you and I stand on different ground.”

Trixie laughed, “Finally, you seem to be catching on. Never fear, Trixie will forgive your renegade attitude of late and allow you to accompany her once more. Trixie’s first order of business is to find that cave with all the treasure, then regroup with the others.” Without further ado the showmare pranced off into the woods, leaving Mwali behind.

For a brief moment Trixie’s own words echoed in her head: ‘never split the party!’ but she dismissed them. Surely this changed things. Trixie felt invincible.

Following Trixie’s instincts in a dark forest within a dangerous alternate reality seemed like the worst idea in the world. Mwali couldn’t tell if she was insane, stupid, or both, but he knew that he needed her. Without her unicorn magic he had about as much chance of getting out as he would if he were an acorn or a leaf. As much as it made him want to squish her head for trapping him there in the first place, he realized he had truly become her slave. Begrudgingly he took off after her, traversing the woods like a shadow in comparison to the azure mare. Trixie tromped along with no particular care, swishing her tail through the leaves as if making as much noise as possible was her personal pleasure. Mwali could already tell this would be an intolerable partnership.

* * *

A ways away and a while later Princess Luna came to her senses. As she lifted her head dead leaves and small twigs clung and snagged in her mane as it floated lazily beside her. Luna gave her head a good shake, trying to clear her blurry vision and the pain in her forehead and horn. The green flash from the dice had burned spots into her retinas and everything in her field of view seemed to be swaying gently. A ridiculous thought came to mind almost as quickly as she cast it aside: could she be drunk? Luna remembered partaking in nothing alcoholic, but the situation was eerily similar to others she shamefully recalled.

“Psst.”

The voice came from somewhere to Luna's right. Besides this whisper she also heard several other voices talking distantly, the crackling of a fire, and the shuffling of what sounded like large feet.

“Luna.”

Realizing that the voice was somewhat familiar, Luna tried to focus a little harder. Although unable to determine what had happened in the aftermath of the flash, she realized the others could be in danger. The entirety of Canterlot could be in danger for all that she knew. Luna willed her vision to improve as she looked around the short room, her head nearly touched the uneven muddy brown ceiling, she was suddenly conscious of a pain in her legs. It would've been nice if everything could have just stopped moving. Luna gave her head a final shake, ridding it of the last shapeless blurs in her vision, and abruptly wished she hadn't.

The uneven muddy ceiling, it seemed, was actually an uneven muddy patch of mud. The ground swayed below her because she was dangling upside-down above it. That also explained the pain in her legs as she peered up to see the ropes secured around her limbs. Luna noticed with a bit of panic that her wings were also bound. Before she could ask what was wrong she heard the pony beside her say something again and turned to see Topstitch and an unconscious Donut Joe dangling beside her. The seamster's face sported a cut on one side and it looked like he'd been struck rather hard there.

“Topstitch,” Luna whispered, catching on quickly that this wasn't an elaborate party game. “Where are the others, does thou knoweth what happened to them?”

He shook his head, his normally calm and cool voice was shaky as he replied, “I don't know, Princess, Trixie and Mwali weren't there when I woke up.”

Luna's heart played a somber chord. It was her fault if something had happened to them, she should've been able to repel whatever magic had taken them by surprise. “How did we come to be in this state, do you know?”

In reply Topstitch jerked his head to the side, generating a bit of extra sway as he did so. Luna followed the motion a few yards away. There she saw a massive bonfire and large figures mulling around the flames. They were clearly canine, diamond dogs. Why did that sound familiar? Luna shook slightly, trying to get her wings free, when she remembered she had a better solution. What else was that lump between her eyes good for if not emergencies? Admittedly, just about everything. The princess channeled her magic as she had done so many times before, focusing it and... nothing. Not even a glimmer of light or a puttering spark.

“This... bodes ill,” Luna said to herself.

“An understatement,” Topstitch replied, wincing. “I tried to use magic, but...”

Luna realized it with horror. Topstitch's own horn had been decimated. All that remained of the stallion's magical conduit was a jagged stub. The shock must've shown on her face, because the seamster looked away. Luna quickly felt guilt, and anger on his behalf. The princess thrashed again, trying to break her bonds, lash out with magic, do something. It yielded no results, she was only wearing herself out. To harm another creature was unthinkable, but to take a unicorn's horn was a crime akin to robbing one's soul. Even with the combined strength of both wings and all her limbs none of the ropes budged. Eventually, the princess fell limp once again.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly, clenching her eyes shut. “were I a stronger mare or a wiser ruler, this wouldn't have happened.”

“S'up with the long faces?” a groggy voice asked. Donut Joe had woken up, and was now regaining his senses as Luna had moments before. What he saw wasn't any more encouraging than the scene the princess had woken to, and the dismayed faces of his friends didn't add to it. His eyes locked on the diamond dogs mulling about nearby, “uh, I missed somethin’.”

Joe shook his head again, then he saw Topstitch and the damage that had been dealt to the stallion. Joe's lips formed a surprised 'o' as he bit back the exclaim that jumped in his throat. The three of them hung in silence, still apart from Joe's efforts to pull apart his bindings, just as Luna had tried to do. Donut Joe was likewise met no success, and his face had contorted into a look of confusion.

“I can't use my magic,” he announced, “You guys- er, Princess, you too?”

“I have tried, it would seem the element of magic holds no sway here. It has been some time since I've seen a warding spell that had any effect on my sister or I.” Sharing this information didn't make her feel any better about it either.

“Exciting, right?” Another voice spoke, jubilant to the last syllable.

Joe twisted, causing his body to spin slightly. The donut maker gave a shout as he turned face-to-face with a pony in a black hood. “I got kids! I'm too young! I left my oven on!” Donut Joe struggled against his ropes, trying his best to swing away from the embodiment of death looming before him.

“Knee Socks,” Luna said, ignoring the spectacle as the newcomer claimed her curiosity.

The pony in question nodded bouncily and reached up to pull back his hood. Golf-cap still in place beneath the hood, Socks looked pleased as ever with current events. More importantly, he was on the ground. The only major difference was the thick black cloak that covered every inch of his body, with the exception of the bright blue socks he wore. “At your service, your majesty! I'm simply tickled, have you seen this place? I haven't got the slightest clue what it all means but I. Am. Loving it.”

“Do you know what happened?” Luna asked, turning her head to keep Socks in sight as she rotated slightly when Joe’s momentum knocked him into her.

Socks shrugged, “Glowy lights, smelled like fish, lots of muttering. I woke up, and I can do this now. The ground bubbled like hot oil, inaudible whispers surrounded the clearing. A sense of terrible misfortune lurks here.”

As the pony rambled Luna began to think he'd lost his mind, at least until his narrations came true. Luna could hear them, like a thousand strangers chanting spells just beyond her hearing, she could see the mud around them broiling and popping as if it was about to explode. More importantly, she saw that the commotion had aroused the suspicions of the nearby diamond dogs. Luna attempted to silence Socks with a look, but the mad haberdasher was giggling as his words took form around them.

“Socks...” Topstitch muttered glaring miserably into the eyes of his friend, “Socks, you great idiot, we're in your game.”

“I know!” the haberdasher exclaimed. “It sounds crazy, but that's absolutely it. Every inch of this place is just the way I imagined it, down to the last diamond dog.”

The princess interrupted them, “If this is thy game, and thou are truly in control of it then you must end it. Turn the game off, that we may return to Canterlot.”

Socks shrugged with a ridiculous smile, “I can’t, I’m sorry. I don’t know how, or if I even can. You should feel what it’s like, I can see everything as if I was there. Things just happen however I imagine it. I can see Trixie and Mwali right now, heading towards the cave bear. Incredible, the best feeling in the world, or close to it.”

“Hey, uh, not to interrupt but we need a little dog-be-gone or something,” said Donut Joe, jerking his head towards the camp. The diamond dogs were approaching them slowly, though they appeared confused more than anything else.

“What?” Socks exclaimed, “That's what you're here for. You wanted to clear out the diamond dogs. I did a roll while you were all asleep and you got captured. How are you going to get loose?”

“Get loose?” Topstitch mimicked, his tone growing more sour by the minute. “Socks, this is your game, wish them away and you can cut us loose!”

The haberdasher shook his head, “Sorry, right. I'm being stupid. The ropes snapped with no warning, releasing the three of you just in time to take up arms against the advancing enemies.”

Luna heard it before she felt it. The rope holding her in the air gave way, breaking for no apparent reason, and dropped her to the floor. With the tension loosened she managed to push her wings out, catching herself before the ground found her face. The princess of the night beat her wings furiously at the approaching diamond dogs, buffeting them and slowing them but ultimately not discouraging their advance. They jeered and crept closer, drawing bladed weapons and bludgeoning tools from poorly constructed belts. Their stench was almost worse to bear than their murderous intents.

“Socks!” Topstitch shouted.

The cloaked figure was nowhere to be seen.

“Cover thine ears,” Luna advised, pushing Topstitch and Joe behind her as soon as the latter had recovered from his collision with the ground. The donut baker fought to put himself between the princess and danger, but her wings blocked him. Luna took a deep breath... and spoke, “LISTEN TO US, AND LISTEN WELL, FOR THY VERY LIVES DEPEND UPON IT. WE ARE PRINCESS LUNA, LADY OF THE NIGHT, SHEPHERD OF THE MOON AND ONE OF THE RULERS OF EQUESTRIA AND ALL HER SUBJECTS. IF THOU WOULD DO HARM UPON US OR OUR SUBJECTS IT WILL BE UNLEASHED BACK UNTO YOU A THOUSAND-FOLD. FEAR US, OR LOVE US, BUT THOU WILL RESPECT US.”

The diamond dogs stopped their advance. The Royal Canterlot Voice reined them in like a storm, forcing the dogs to dance backwards and reconsider their actions. Only a few of them really seemed to be paying attention to what the princess said, the other mutts stared dimly up at their pack-mates for guidance. Luna flexed her wings, eying them nervously. Donut Joe ducked under the wing and stood beside her, digging at the ground in a clear threat. All at once the diamond dogs began to laugh.

“You... you pony, princess?” the largest one guffawed in his gravelly voice, “Pony princess all gone! Diamond dogs rule woods now. Hah! And ponies think we the stupid ones.”

“W-what?” Luna faltered, “What does thou mean? Didst thou not hear the authority of Our royal tone?”

Apparently not. The diamond dogs were skulking towards them again, forcing the group of ponies to retreat further. Topstitch looked for an out, but without knowing the forest around them they could just as easily run into something worse rather than a way to escape. Joe sneered and scuffed at the ground, Luna batted her wings and fruitlessly continued her efforts to shout back their foes. It didn't take a scholar to figure out that they had no fighting skills, let alone weapons to defend themselves with. The irony of it all was that between the three of them, even the slightest bit of magic would've been enough to provide a distraction. Yet none of them could summon the faintest spark.

Except they could. Topstitch's eyes fell on a spot at the base of Joe's neck, where his coat was stained with many small black markings. “Joe... you have a mark,” he said.

“Pardon?” Joe called back, “Yeah, I got it making Donuts, how about you? Look, this ain't a good time-

“Joe! Your character is an earth pony, but you took a hex mark. You can use magic!”

Luna looked around at this, confused, “Did thou forget? We already tried that, our horns are useless.”

Topstitch could feel the sweat on his brow. The diamond dogs were directly upon them now, held back only by their sadistic desire to cause fear. The seamster reached for a stone on the ground, scooping it up into his hoof with some trouble. Luna reared up, swinging her hooves at the lead canine, nearly caving in his head. With this distraction the dogs didn't see Topstitch lob his stone, or even notice it until the rock smacked into their leader's dome with an audible thud. The diamond dog did a pirouette, which would've been impressive or at least funny if the ponies weren’t afraid for their lives, then he fell on his face in a puff of dirt.

There was a pause as Joe looked back, appalled, at Topstitch as Luna stared blankly down at the unconscious dog. The diamond dogs shared in the moment of silence, one scratching his head as if this event had changed everything. The peace was short-lived, however. The nearest one swung at Joe with what appeared to be a broomstick with a kitchen knife taped to the end. The donut maker dodged under the swing with a yelp, stumbling backwards out of the weapon's range. Topstitch hooked a hoof around the base of Luna's wing and tugged her backwards as the remainder of the diamond dogs sprung after them, barking and snarling.

“Great plan!” Joe shouted, “Maybe next time we can insult their mothers or somethin' too!”

Topstitch nickered in frustration, ducking under a bramble hanging from a tree. “You need to use magic, Joe, make a smoke-screen, start a fire, I don't care!”

Behind them Luna barreled through bushes and leapt over stones, battling against her wings as her feathers attempted to snag the entire forest. “We have no magic,” she hastily repeated, “our only option is to flee.”

“The marks!” Topstitch shouted, wishing he could swat at Joe's head without losing pace.

“Yea, yea, I got it!” he replied, “I would if I could, pal, but I haven't got a clue. So until I figure it out, keep leggin' it.”

As if to emphasize his point a makeshift spear whistled past them, burying itself into a tree trunk briefly before falling apart. Joe paused, picking up the knife-end of the spear in his teeth before continuing at a sprint. Luna regarded him with alarm, but he was unable to say anything and grip the weapon at the same time. The diamond dogs were gaining on them, unimpeded by the familiar obstacles of the undergrowth. Luna's first instinct was to turn and face them, with or without magic, and give the others time to escape. Of course, neither Joe nor Topstitch would leave her behind, so that only left one option: run faster.

* * *

On the other side of the forest small trees fell left and right. Much to Mwali's ire Trixie had taken to hacking apart everything in their path – and most that wasn't – with quick telekinetic lashes or small pyrotechnics. The swathe of smoldering debris behind them was easy enough to follow for anyone with more than a half-dozen brain cells. The zebra had asked her to stop, but only succeeded in bolstering her attempts to rid the woods of all greenery.

It felt wonderful. Trixie was no stranger to simple magic, but it still came at a cost. Using as much magic as she had would have easily burned out any unicorn back in the real Equestria. Within the confines of the Age of Nightmare system, however, small acts of magic took no toll on the user. Trixie could tear apart the forest for weeks and never run out of energy to power her spells, it was a flawed system, but a fun one. The showmare was enjoying herself so thoroughly that she began to hum a pleasant three-tune melody, even as she whipped her horn back and forth to destroy nature.

Of course, as with everything The Great and Powerful Trixie did, there was a practical purpose as well. Trixie knew, thanks to Mwali's detection spells, that they were nearing the bear's den. If she knew anything about dungeoneering it was that traps could be anywhere and without a thief character it was up to her to find them. Burning away the brush removed one possible hiding spot while telekinetic lashes would sever any tripwires before the duo could walk into them. They had yet to find any evidence of the traps, but far be it from Trixie to cease her fun simply because it seemed unnecessary.

Mwali stopped first, guessing that they had traveled far enough that Trixie would request his magic again. Unfortunately the zebra's detection spell didn't fall under the realm of small magic, and it fatigued him just slightly more with each use. It had already taken a considerable amount of time and energy to figure out how to do it in the first place. Having already cast the spell three times, nearly reducing his walking speed to a crawl, he didn't look forwards to the effect of doing it again.

“Wait!” Trixie cried, seeing as the marks on the zebra's jaw and neck began to glow.

The striped equine gladly complied. The marks burned like hot coals pressed against his skin, even as their light faded and they became once more black and almost indistinguishable from his stripes. Mwali sighed, about to ask if Trixie meant to travel blindly now in addition to razing the woods. Instead his jaw fell agape at the sight before them.

When Socks had mentioned the cave bear they had imagined his home would be a modest, naturally formed abode. What they had not expected was a giant stone archway, easily six or seven ponies high, inscribed with a host of runes rendered illegible by the ages. The massive entry was covered in creeper vines and sagging under its own weight, the opening gaped like the maw of a giant worm, a tunnel of unhewn rock that went on and on into blackness. It looked more like the entrance to the temple of some forgotten god than the resting place of a common bear.

“I knew it,” Trixie said flatly, trotting towards the opening with steps so light she may as well have been floating. “Trixie's intuition pays off once again, she only wishes that high-horse princess were here to witness it.”

“Ooh, yes,” said a familiarly jovial voice. “you two certainly have a unique way of traveling.”

Trixie whirled around, already leveling an accusatory hoof at mid-air as a cloaked pony with an insufferably tacky golf cap materialized in a swirl of black fabric. “Aha! Shown yourself at last, hatter? Well, Trixie doesn't intend to be merciful. As soon as she figures out how you orchestrated this charade The Great and Powerful Trixie will smush your illusion like a pathetic marshmallow underhoof.”

Socks looked confused, “Me? Trix, before we came here I was just a run-of-the-mill earth pony. I know as much about what's going on as either of you... well, I do know that you should probably be watching your backs.”

“What?”

“The thing about fires, they produce smoke. Animals hate the stuff, they lose their minds if they sense a fire near their homes.”

Something stirred within the depths of the tunnel entrance. Mwali narrowed his eyes, trying to get a good look at it. The zebra could hear a rhythmic pounding as the shadow moved closer, and closer. Retreating, he placed a hoof on Trixie's back and attempted to turn her around or wrest her attention from Socks, to no avail.

Trixie was still confused, “What does that matter? You said it was a common cave bear, Trixie's magic is more than enough to deal with a low-level monster like that by herself.”

Thump! Thump! Like his home, the creature that emerged from the cave's entrance was anything but common. The rugged beast stood almost as high as the archway, though his girth only filled it halfway. The bear's fur was thick and wild, his giant head swung back and forth, sniffing at the air. As luck would have it a sudden gust of wind carried the smell of two terrified ponies right to it. The bear gave a low growl, a query and a warning. It was enough to prompt the azure showmare to turn around with almost mechanical movements. Staring down the gargantuan creature, her pupils reduced to pinpricks.

“It’s an oldie, but a goodie. Enchanted monsters only count as basic ones,” Socks giggled to himself. The haberdasher draped his forelegs across Trixie and Mwali’s necks as he whispered, “It’s time for an encounter!”

Animal Affinity

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Chapter Six: Animal Affinity

"Trixie, move out of the way!" Mwali barked as he dropped into an aggressive pose.

A gargantuan paw came down at the azure unicorn. In the interest of not getting impaled by his claws, Trixie dove forwards, underneath the bear's forearm. The showmare landed in a heap, covering her hat with her hooves desperately. The bear scraped backwards, pulling Trixie closer towards him and scooping the unfortunate magician up into his palm. Sitting atop his paw, Trixie's eyes gaped into those of the monster as he regarded her curiously.

"You... don't suppose we could put this behind us?" Trixie pleaded, edging away from the bear's stalactite-sized teeth.

Socks chirped up at her from the ground, "Diplomacy check! Good try, Trixie, but I'm afraid it's not having much effect." The bear growled menacingly as he spoke.

"You don't say?" replied Trixie, her tone and expression meek.

The bear's giant jaws came forward. Trixie leapt daintily from its paw and tumbled slightly as she hit the ground. The snap of the bear's teeth slamming together on empty air was reason enough for the mare to recover quickly. Getting to her hooves, she ran towards Mwali. The zebra's arcane marks were glowing brightly, but he had yet to unleash any spells. Trixie wasn't even sure an illusion would work on an enchanted creature.

"It may be the wrong time to point fingers, or name names... though I think this being your fault is quite plain," Mwali commented dryly..

Trixie quivered behind the zebra as she spoke, "Trixie will gladly appoint you the new leader if and when she is devoured by an angry bear. Until then, keep that thing away from me!"

Mwali opened his mouth to reply but was cut short. The bear charged at them again, bowling over saplings and scoring deep wounds in the earth where its paws fell. Mwali and Trixie split up, each diving to the opposite side and circling around the monster as it ravaged the spot where they had been. It quickly realized where they had gone and snapped around, biting at Mwali's tail just as he cleared its range. Trixie charged her horn and fired a weak spark at the bear, which jumped up its nose and fizzled out between its eyes.

"I hope you have spells stronger than that," Mwali growled.

Trixie shushed him, "The Great and Powerful Trixie is getting warmed up!"

There was so much adrenaline, fear, and confusion in her body that Trixie was having a hard time focusing on any magic at all. One Trixie wanted to turn tail and flee, but the other Trixie could feel the deep well of magic that her character, Lulamoon de Fleur, was capable of wielding. Whether it was there, and whether she could use it were two entirely different matters. The mare's breathing was ragged and her concentration was shot, but the power was there at least.

Unlike the unicorn Mwali was quick to act, he charged forward and reared, dealing several strikes to the bear's flanks. The blows accomplished next to nothing, not even prompting the beast to turn around. Even if he had his warshoes he wasn't sure it would've made a difference. Stubborn, the zebra twisted around and bucked the bear with his hind legs. Even putting all his force into his limbs the attack only prompted a small grunt of recognition from the bear.

“Do you have a deathwish?” Trixie shrieked, “It's like you're trying to kick-box with a mountain.”

“We can't outrun a creature this size,” said the zebra as he kicked again at its dark brown haunches.

In retaliation the bear drew a thick line in the earth with its claw, headed right for Mwali. The zebra only just stumbled out of the way, but he was left off his balance and face-to-face with a hulking, confused, and angry omnivore. He jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding a paw that made the ground tremble. Without a moment to spare he ran between the bear's arms and straight underneath it, escaping on the other side. The bear gave a low rumble and tore at the ground with both claws as it became further agitated.

Trixie hunted frantically, looking for anything that could give them an edge. It was difficult just to keep her footing as Mwali's evasive dance with the bear shook the earth. The mottled green and yellow leaves blanketing the ground were practically hovering in the air with each tremor. To make matters worse, Socks had vanished. Of their surroundings neither the looming mountain nor the massive oak trees nearby seemed like a usable weapon.

A tendril of smoke curled underneath the unicorn's nose, provoking a small cough. Little fires still burned across the path Trixie had made to the cave. In hindsight, she really had gone overboard with her devastation. Then again... go big, or go home. In any case, it gave her an idea. As Mwali avoided the bear's attacks, growing fatigued with every near-miss, Trixie gripped a burning frond with her magic, raising it high into the air. The unicorn licked her upper lip and ignored the scene before her, the mare's face was pure concentration. A few minor adjustments, a lot of guessing, and a flick of her horn. Trixie swung the frond and let it fly.

Years spent aiming 'rogue' bottle-rockets at the stages of rival entertainers finally paid off. The giant burning leaf landed directly atop the bear's head. Abruptly the coarse hairs all around the hungry animal's face caught fire. It tried to swipe the fire away, bellowing as it raked its claws down its face in pain. Mwali was nearly crushed, forced to flee as the blind creature thrashed wildly in its attempt to clear its eyes of ash.

“Who's the mare?” Trixie shouted, smiling pridefully and raising a hoof for her striped companion to bump.

Mwali snorted and pushed her foreleg away, “You buy us time, at best. We need more than ashes or hooves to put this bear to rest.”

“Is the rhyming truly necessary?” Trixie gave the zebra a scathing stare.

“It helps me think,” he retorted.

Their window of escape wasn't much to work with. The bear was already starting to recover, the flames licking at its face had been quashed. If the trembling cave dweller had been angry before, now it could only be described as absolutely livid. It carved trees in half, flung boulders from the mountain every which way. The bear obviously no longer cared whether it was demolishing ponies or scenery.

The showmare cracked her neck loudly. “You know what?” she said, her fur bristling as she stepped forward. “Trixie single-handedly defeated the Lich Emperor when her party fell. It was Trixie who reclaimed the Draconomicron from the Lost City of Javec!” The mare's horn began to glow and crackle as she went on, “Who slew the doppelganger who had imprisoned the entire town of Drullmer? Oh right, Trixie again.”

Mwali just stared at her. “You've lost your mind,” he blurted.

Trixie laughed callously, “We're just getting started, this is Trixie's specialty after all. Countess Lulamoon de Fleur Mariotte will not be defeated by a mangy beast with a singed uni-brow.”

“Marvelous... now you're getting your head in the game,” A voice echoed through the clearing from every direction at once. It was undeniably pleased, but there was something else in his tone. Something much more sinister. It took Trixie a long moment to recognize the voice to be Socks, and she shared a glance with Mwali to confirm it. “You've got an attack of opportunity. With a thirteen over Mwali's ten, Trixie has initiative.”

As the unseen dungeon master spoke a pair of familiar emerald dice appeared in the sky, only now they were giant. The golden number thirteen blazed for a moment on its face before fading away. Trixie realized that if she didn't act quickly the bear would recover and she'd lose her chance. Unlike in a normal game, she didn't have much time to think about her options. When in doubt, practice the basics.

“Trixie casts Magic Missile on the bear!” the unicorn shouted. She then shut her eyes and poured magic into her horn.

A surge traveled up her tail and all along her body. Trixie dug her hooves in on instinct as the surge hit the tip of her horn. With a blast like a cannon a spear of purple light arced off her horn, kicking the unicorn back on her rump with the force of its departure. Another die appeared against the clouds above them, rolling itself and landing on a smoldering five. The missile buried itself into the bear's back, a wave of plum-colored energy washing over its girth. The beast convulsed and gave a frightening roar as it whipped around to face her.

“Solid hit, good roll!” Socks commented, his voice echoing once more in his usual playful tone.

Trixie ignored him for the time being, “Stripey, do something!”

Mwali lost a step, realizing she meant him, and looked quickly from Trixie to the wild animal they were fighting. All of a sudden the tables were turned. Their confidence had traded places, and now Mwali wasn't sure what to do. He hadn't stopped to consider that the rules of a battle might be different in the world of Nightmare. If his character wasn't any good at fighting then he wasn't going to do any damage by just kicking and punching. There wasn't much time to figure out what he was meant to do instead.

“I haven't memorized my spells,” he called back, gritting his teeth.

The mare gave a groan that was audible even over the roar of the bear. It was upon them now, taking a swipe at the zebra. Mwali wasn't so lucky that time, too distracted to get out of the way, he was struck with the full blunt force of the bear's paw and batted through the air. The zebra landed in a heap and rolled up to the mouth of the cave. As he shook himself off he looked up and saw Trixie retreating into the treeline and firing off another purple spear.

It was his turn again. Mwali knew he only had a few seconds to act. It was unfair to call it a 'turn' at all. In the real world he could've spent as much time as he needed. Fighting in real-time should've been a comfort to the zebra, it wasn't exactly something he was unfamiliar with. Of course in the real world he knew his strengths, and a good kick to the head would set anyone's eyes rolling into the back of their heads. Without time to think about how his 'character' would fight, Mwali called on the first spell he could remember that wasn't Detect Magic.

The arcane marks across his hide began to burn and glow. It felt like pressing his skin against a hot frying pan. Mwali didn't even want to think about how many times he'd used the detect spell or how much magic he had left. Either way, the end result of using more magic was more pain. The zebra had a nagging suspicion that the game's creators hadn't considered how difficult it was to fight while your flesh was burning from the inside out when they designed the hex system.

“Flash,” he grunted, calling on the spell.

A shock spread out the tattoos. The heat from each hex intensified briefly before the energy dissipated. A small globe of light appeared in his hoof, which he slung expertly towards the bear. The spell impacted at the same time as the bear lopped off the top of an oak tree, sending a mass of branches down on top of Trixie. Mwali's orb exploded with the most blinding light the zebra had ever seen, causing its caster to flinch to the side, gasping as he rubbed his eyes.

For better or worse, though, the attack worked. The bear stumbled away from Trixie before it could dig her out of the foliage. It wailed in confusion as it was blinded for the second time in their fight. Trixie's head poked out from the tangle of leaves and twigs just in time to take advantage, firing off another blast of energy right at the bear's chest. The colossal beast's wail turned to a full-blown scream as it flopped down on its back. Trixie reared up and whooped, only to lose her footing and fall back into the thicket.

“You know, Flash only distracts opponents for one turn,” Said Socks, somewhere far above them.

Mwali's eyes snapped back to his opponent. The bear was rolling over, and as luck would have it the first thing its giant eyes fell on was a stripe-covered equine. Two thoughts came to mind, one was an expletive that would flush the face of any grandmother, the second was a spell. He winced as the hexes began to burn again, and he drew a circle in the dirt. Hoping that it would be sufficient he stepped back just as the drawing began to glow a soft blue.

As soon as he was finished the bear was barreling towards him. Mwali turned tail and ran, staying in line with the circle he'd drawn as best he could. When he reached the mountain he skidded to a stop. As planned the great animal passed right over his trap. With a sound like thousands of pieces of glass shattering on the ground several spires of ice sprung up from the ground and encompassed the bear. It thrashed and made loud cries of protest, its movements cracking the surface of the thick ice as the cold prison slowly built itself around its prey.

“Ether Sword!” a voice called out.

Mwali turned his head to see Trixie waving her hooves at him from the forest. The zebra nodded, his hexes lit like silver fire, and burned with the same ferocity. Mwali stomached it with hope that he could deliver the final blow, and galloped at the trapped bear. Flames licked the air around his muzzle and a weapon began to take shape from it. A blade made entirely of fire. Mwali bit down on the handle, prepared to drive his enchanted sword into the bear's hide as-

Pain. Pain shot through his sides. Pain seized up every muscle in his body. Mwali tumbled to the ground, his weapon dispersed before he even hit the dirt. His body may have stopped moving, but his hexes still felt like they were on fire. The zebra let out an involuntary yell. Agony left him twitched, wide-eyed, and disoriented as he willed his body to move. He heaved shallow breaths into the grass beside his prone form, waiting for some response. Instead he heard the shattering of ice, and the bellow of a beast which had had enough of their stalling.

Trixie had made a mistake. She saw Mwali fall down and knew immediately what had happened. The zebra had reached the end of his endurance, and the magic hexes were getting revenge for his abuse of them. With how he'd been acting like her personal compass it was a wonder he hadn't given out sooner. Regardless, it was obvious that he didn't have the energy to keep going, at least until the hexes let up on him. It was her mistake, and now she was left to deal with it.

“Trixie hates guilt,” said the mare as she glared at Mwali, half-hoping that he'd miraculously get up and run away. All that accomplished was wasting time.

Another powerful surge of magic went through her body. Trixie held her breath and braced herself as she aimed her horn. A blue light appeared at the tip, it glowed benignly in place before detaching with a loud snap. The light turned into a streak and zig-zagged erratically through the sky. Trixie immediately felt dizzy, as though the bolt had sapped the energy right out of her. No time to lose, she shook it off and vaulted a tree trunk in her path, headed for the bear. The lightning struck it at the base of the neck and caused a tremendous convulsion. The bear fell over on all fours, its back smoking and its limbs twitching as it moaned in a mix of confusion and pain.

As Trixie neared she threw her head to either side wildly, putting minuscule shots of magic in each gesture. Small telekinetic whips lashed across the bear's hide. It scored the ground several times, uninjured, but frustrated. Trixie turned tail as soon as she'd gotten its attention and bolted for the entrance to the beast's own cave. Seeing that its home was now at threat the creature loped after her, one of its paws dragged along behind it as though paralyzed.

“H-how about some p-personal space?!” Trixie stammered, failing to sound confident as the bear closed in behind her. Its breath traveled over her spine and she heard the growl in its throat picking up volume as it prepared to snap her up whole.

Before it could she whipped her horn upwards, throwing all the energy she could muster into it. The entire cave trembled as though she'd lobbed a sack of dynamite. The stone archway cracked and began to cave in on itself. Seeing the explosion, the bear faltered just long enough to get clocked on the head with a piece of stonework that was easily larger than a stagecoach. More rubble fell, pinning the creature.

Trixie kept running, a wall of dust hot on her flanks. It quickly swallowed her, obscured all vision, and forced her to take refuge in the folds of her cape. The showmare choked on the thick air and slowed down, allowing her raspy breaths to regain some clarity. A long pained cry echoed to her from the entrance. Trixie's eyes shot open as she heard scrabbling claws against stone. The bear was still coming.

“You've got to be kidding me,” Trixie gasped. Her lower lip trembled as she got to her hooves and galloped further into the cave. When she chanced a glance behind her she could only see the bear as a large shadow. The entrance to the cave was all but blocked off now, which left Trixie trapped with a giant angry wounded bear, in the dark.

To make matters worse she then collided with something. Trixie gave a shrill 'ouch!' as her nose bumped against something very solid and cold, which gave a metallic ring on impact. A quick spark jumped up her horn, a small light formed at its tip. It was just barely enough to see by, and Trixie quickly realized that what she bumped into was a large minecart. A number of gems were inside, nestled amongst common stone and glinting in the light of her horn.

“Well...” Trixie hummed slowly. She finished in a sob, “at least The Great and Powerful Trixie was wealthy.”

“You can't just give up!” an incredulous voice echoed. Socks materialized before her, hooves crossed in dismay as he regarded her, not with concern, but with disgust. “I'm disappointed. Hurt, wounded even!” he said. The haberdasher's voice took on an increasingly whiny temperament as he went on, “It's no fun if you just give up, that's why we're all here, right?”

Trixie was dumbfounded. She retorted, “Forgive Trixie if it's wrong to draw the line once we got trapped in a board game. If you'd included 'risk of fatal injury' on your invitations Trixie never would have come!”

“Well...” Socks looked ashamed, “Granted, it's not what we had planned... but it's still only a game. Not just any game, it's Nightmare!”

It was difficult for Trixie to share the stallion's enthusiasm. “Last time Trixie checked being eaten alive wasn't in the guidebook.”

“Trix, I'm hurt, truly,” this time Socks actually looked it. “I couldn't let you get hurt, I mean not really. Look, as the dungeon master I'm in control, right?”

The mare nodded, though she wasn't paying attention as she peeked around Socks to see where the bear was. The scraping noises had stopped along with the growls.

“Sooo, no harm done! If things get too dangerous, poof! I say a few words and the danger's all gone.”

It was hard to argue with that logic. Thus far Socks seemed to have exercised significant control over the world around them. It was nothing short of a miracle that she and Mwali had managed to avoid the bear's attacks without any severe injuries. In hindsight, with Socks nudging the results of the battle it seemed a lot less lucky. Trixie peeked around his side again, but the bear was nowhere in sight, not even a silhouette in the darkness.

“We keep playing... and you keep us out of danger?” Trixie asked.

“What's the alternative, kill off my own friends?” Socks gave a chuckle, despite the bleak undertone of his statement. “Within reason, you know. I'm giving you a free pass here, since it's all a little sudden, but I can't just make enemies disappear all the time. It'd ruin the whole game.”

Trixie lunged forwards, wrapping her hooves around Socks' neck in a deadly vise. “YOU INSUFFERABLE INSANE CRUEL HEATHEN OF A HATTER. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL TRIXIE THAT WE WERE SAFE THIS ENTIRE TIME!?” Small embers flew off of her horn, threatening to set fire to Socks' cloak.

The haberdasher spluttered and choked, trying to pull away. Trixie's grip was surprisingly strong, for a time he thought he might actually suffocate. At least until he recalled that he had been thrown into a world where he was the omnipotent and all-powerful dungeon master. Socks vanished from the unicorn's grip, leaving her to fall on her face, still raging as he appeared again a few feet away. Socks clapped his hooves together excitedly, he'd always wanted to know what teleporting was like. There it was, sort of disappointing actually.

“Calm, calm!” he chanted, “Say a mantra if you must. Really, I thought you would've figured it out on your own. I mean, you couldn't think I'd just let you get eaten.”

“Yes,” she replied, her expression stale as she rubbed her twice injured nose.

Socks regarded her wryly. “Fine. If you're not going to be an adult about this I'll just go and see how the others are doing.”

“Bring them here, you lunatic. Trixie isn't going to blunder around in the woods trying to find them... There's treasure here.”

“Oh of course, mother. Right away.” Socks replied sardonically, fading away into the background. His voice became bodiless again, “You check on our striped friend, I'll take care of the others.”

Trixie peered around the tunnel for a moment, confirming that he had gone. She didn't bother conjuring a light and walked in darkness back towards the entrance. The mare's shoulders quivered, making her steps unsteady. Her breaths were deep and ragged. Trixie sniffled loudly, echoing off the stone walls. The mare forced a laugh, muttering to herself about a 'stupid cold'. She raised a foreleg to wipe her face, and ignored as it came away from her eyes with damp fur.

The mouth of the cave was still littered with stone, though the bear was nowhere to be seen. On the other side she could hear Mwali. The zebra was calling out, and she could hear him shifting rubble from the outside. So he was fine at least, that was good. It seemed like as good a time as any to take a small break. Trixie leaned against the wall heavily, her eyes glazed as she allowed herself to slide to the floor. The mare wrapped her cape around herself and laid her head on her hooves. After a brief moment of silence she stirred, then again, she sobbed soundlessly as she listened and waited for Mwali.

* * *

Donut Joe collapsed to the ground in a spray of leaves. The stallion breathed heavily as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the forest canopy. “I guess...” he paused to breathe, “this is where livin' off your own product... lands you, huh?”

A thoroughly winded Topstitch grumbled assent before taking a dive to fall down beside the sweet maker. “Just glad... we got... away,” he huffed, laying his muzzle in the soil.

Princess Luna sat in vigil nearby. The princess's mane flowed beautifully beside her, drawing attention away from her stern expression. She took deep breaths to steady her racing heart, but she was more-or-less composed. Luna's natural alicorn physiology may have been to thank for that, or it might have been a trait of her character within the game. Whatever the reason, she was in the best condition, and therefore best suited to provide watch.

“I could really go for a tall glass of cider,” said Joe, still trying to lift the tension in the air.

“We are lucky to still have our lives,” Luna replied morosely.

As a princess Luna felt responsible, both for what had already happened and the events that would follow. As long as she could remember – a staggering number of years – she and her sister had protected ponies to the best of their abilities. Now she'd once again endangered them, or at least failed to prevent it. To say she wasn't in the best of spirits would be an understatement. The princess felt wretched, entirely wretched.

Joe snorted, “Nah, your highness, we'd be lucky ta have a salad buffet. With juicy tomatoes, crispy lettuce, and my own special Polyneighsian dressing. An' don't let my mother fool you,” he assured, “I make it just right.”

When Luna's frown didn't fade Joe turned his attention back to the canopy thoughtfully. With all that had happened food was the last thing on his mind. Still, he'd do anything to lift some of the gloom that was quickly spreading. There was enough of it to outweigh a full-grown dragon. Although he'd dealt with rough spots in the past Joe didn't have much experience with alternate universes. What he did have experience with was folks in a slump, there were always those in his restaurant looking to drown the world out with a sugar rush, or for an ear to fill with their troubles.

If neither of those were an option, there was always distraction. Donut Joe rolled over before getting to his hooves laboriously. Once up he shook himself violently, dislodging a small rain of twigs and leaves over Topstitch. The other unicorn couldn't help but look up curiously, then glance over at Luna as if she might have some clue. When the princess averted her gaze in order to watch the confectioner pacing to the edge of the clearing, Topstitch decided to bite. The seamster got to his feet, shifted uncomfortably in his armor, and pursued Donut Joe.

“Wait!” Luna commanded, leaving her post temporarily. “We would do well to recuperate fully before wandering through the woods.”

Joe looked back with feigned ignorance, “Don't worry about me, highness, I'm all good to go. Just thought we should find a stream or something, get a drink. Could find a village.”

“We have already tried, I flew above the canopy and saw nothing but trees in any direction,” Luna countered, laying down and crossing her forelegs. “Our only hope may be to wait for Knee Socks to return to us with answers.”

“All due respect,” Joe began, prompting Luna to believe the opposite, “but I was never much for waiting around. If he's the boss-guy or whatever he can find us any time he wants to, that's how I see it. So we might as well get something done.”

The princess contemplated her hooves. Her reply was hesitant, “A fair point,” she said. Luna looked back at him, her gaze lingering before she sighed, “What would you propose, Donut Joe?”

Glad that he was getting his way, Joe turned to the princess and scratched his chin for a moment. “I'm not much for directions, y'know I could probably get lost in a paper bag. I think if we can figure out how to get the magic juice goin' I can poof up a way to point us the right direction.”

That may have been the most nonchalant description of magic the princess had ever heard. “We have tried that as well though,” Luna complained. “None of us have had any success.”

Topstitch leveled a thoughtful look at Joe. “Not with our horns, no... but Joe took hexes. Trixie said that he could use magic with them before, now that we're in the game we just have to find out how to trigger them.”

“Yeah, what he said,” said Joe, nudging the seamster beside him.

Luna cocked her head as she regarded the black paisley patterning on Joe's neck. The markings were unlike any she was familiar with, though they bore similarities to some ancient texts. As best she could make out they either weren't meant to be read, or they were fictional gibberish. Joe was right, though, they weren't accomplishing anything by waiting for Socks to show up. The princess nodded slowly before rising once more.

“Have you any ideas to help accomplish that?” she asked hopefully.

Topstitch turned to look at Joe as well.

The unicorn in question evaded them and stared up at the trees. “I was never too great at magic either, now ya mention it.” To Joe's surprise the princess smiled. It was a small thing, barely worthy of being called a smirk, but it was there. Like a mother looking on as her child littered blocks on the floor in a feeble attempt to build a tower. Putting it like that, Joe actually felt a bit insulted.

The alicorn closed her eyes and shook her head, she approached him as she spoke, “Certainly thou already know how to use magic, we draw innate magic from our bodies and our minds, projecting it through our horns to effect results. If our horns are of no use, however, then we must find an alternative. Have thou tried focusing thy energy on your marks as you would your horn?”

Donut Joe nodded agreeably and gave it a try. He closed his eyes and tried to dredge up an ounce of magic spark, but there was nothing there. Joe opened his eyes again and gave a shrug.

Luna went on, “If thou cannot feel any magic, as We cannot, then thy magic is likely within the mark itself. It is possible an incantation of sorts is necessary to activate it, or some other physical component, such as a gesture.”

Joe chuckled, “So you're saying I should just wave my hooves around 'til somethin' happens, yeah?”

The princess smirked again, “As We see it, thou could also talk to the sky or perform a rain dance. Experimentation is thy ally, in this case.”

With the two of them getting nowhere Topstitch thought to try his own horn again, what was left of it. Standing aside, he focused on the magic within. It was there, same as in the real world, though it felt slightly alien. Topstitch formed an image in his head, a small light at the tip of his horn. Utilizing his mind's eye had always been his strong-suit. Gingerly, he pushed the energy in his body into his horn and...

Topstitch jerked his head to the side as his temple exploded with pain. Despite his best efforts he was unable to dodge the imaginary blow that had struck him near-blind. The seamster staggered about, giving sharp gasps of pain and catching the attention of his allies. Joe galloped over first, but was swiftly passed by Luna. The princess used her large wings to speed ahead and land at the seamster's side as he rested on his haunches, rolling his head about in an attempt to ease the pain, wincing and grumbling at the same time.

“Whoa, hello glowstick,” said Joe, jaw agape.

Luna shushed him sharply, quick enough to draw Topstitch's attention. Although he couldn't see his horn very well, he sure tried. The seamster's eyes were fully crossed as he inquired what the confectioner meant. Joe took a step back, allowing Luna to stand ahead of him and examine the broken auxiliary. Topstitch's horn, riddled with small cracks, was now glowing in small pulsing bands, it oozed off sparks and even gave a small snap that caused Luna to coil backwards. The princess reached up with her hoof to touch it, but she quickly thought better of it and brought the limb back down.

“Are thou insane?” scolded Luna, flaring out her wings in agitation. “Thy horn was already broken, and now is newly cracked as well. If thou does not suppress thy magic the damage is likely going to spread.” Luna stamped at the ground, causing Topstitch to lean away from her.

“Of course not!” Topstitch rebuked, “I thought I'd give it a try, we all ought to know our limits.”

“Your limit is plain then,” Luna replied harshly, temper getting the best of her. She turned away, speaking with herself instead, “We should not have condoned this. It isn't wise to tamper with magic on unfamiliar grounds.”

Joe stepped in, “Hey, highness, cool off a bit. No harm done, we'll wait for Socks to show up, like you wanted.”

“Then perhaps it is unwise to do so, as it seems to be my decisions which have undone us thus far, were I not opposed to Trixie's greedy pursuits, we might not have been separated at least.” Luna hung her head, knowing that poking at flaws would do them no good. Her hoof drew a face idly in the dirt. Luna wished her sister was there.

Topstitch got up, with a wince, and approached the princess. “You were right though, it was stupid of me to try magic. I got carried away, thinking we could get home if we found the others quickly.”

Luna nodded slowly, “Thou are worried for thy friends, Trixie, and Knee Socks. We are sorry for speaking so cruelly to you. Working together should be our chief priority, and leadership an equal burden.” The princess wasn't even sure that she believed that last bit, but it put Topstitch and Joe at ease.

“This... is... beautiful. Have I ever told any of you how much I love you?” Socks' gleeful tones bounced around the clearing, distracting them all as they paused to look for the source. The pony himself materialized a short ways away, tipped forwards on the tips of his hooves as if he'd been watching the thrilling climax of a film. “Roleplaying at its finest!” he gushed, “imagine if all games were like that.”

“Speak of the DM!” Joe exclaimed.

The three ponies gathered around their robed compatriot. Socks gave a small frown, returning to his normal posture. He'd hoped they would go on a bit longer, but beggars can't be choosers. Socks eyed Topstitch in particular, gaze falling on the vein-like light-show coming from his horn, “By Celestia's plot, 'Stitch-” Luna gave him an astonished look, causing the haberdasher to smile sheepishly, “-you didn't try magic did you?”

The seamster looked away with a frown, “It was worth a try. We didn't know how long it would be until you came back.”

“Ever the logical,” Socks chided, “Rest your bedraggled hearts, I'm here! I can take you to the others as well. How are you all doing?”

Luna frowned, “We are trapped in a dimension where Our alternate self is a tyrant god-queen, and our magic proves useless,” she paused thoughtfully before looking back into Socks' eyes. The princess shrugged, “but We are whole and unharmed. What has thou found out about this game world?”

“Just that cloaks made out of shadows are the softest things in the universe,” said Socks, snuggling the black garment around him for emphasis. “I have a few ideas, but I'd save those for when we've got the whole group in one place.”

“But you're in control,” Topstitch reminded him, “Can't you just take us to them?”

Socks rolled his eyes, “Did Trix get that laziness from you then? Perhaps I should unravel the whole storyline and give you the keys to the kingdom too.”

Topstitch gave him a chastising look. “This is serious, I just want to figure this out and get home.”

“Alright, alright,” Socks yielded... partially, “there are rules though,” he said. “I can't just help help help. I have to be a proper dungeon master.”

Princess Luna raised a wing to quiet Topstitch's reply, instead she nodded to Socks. “If thou shows us the way we can walk to the others. If Trixie still retains her magic then she may be able to break this curse and send us home.”

“You all make it sound like you've hated my game,” said a dejected Knee Socks.

Luna arced an eyebrow. She smirked as she replied, “For what it is worth, We enjoyed your game a great deal. Thou certainly know how to share thy vision with thy players.”

Socks snorted. Donut Joe cuffed him on the shoulder and Topstitch offered a reassuring pat. He still felt disappointed. It seemed like the only pony who'd really had fun so far was himself. That was hours and hours of planning down the drain. Socks had been positive at least that Trixie would find it in herself to enjoy the game, despite the rather dire circumstances. Instead Donut Joe seemed to be the only one who wasn't flat out irate about the whole ordeal.

“Hate the game, not the players,” said the melancholy haberdasher. It was futile, of course, for Socks could never hate Age of Nightmare.

A/N: This chapter turned out a little bit dark! Tensions are high, and characters are taking it a bit hard. Luna in particular is struggling a bit with how she reacts to this crisis, concerned as she is for her beloved subjects. I could write a whole chapter on Luna's mindset right now, but I won't, because that would probably get boring. I really enjoyed writing this chapter because I feel like there's a lot of small tidbits that really allude to the personalities of the characters, and of course letting Trixie get a bit of revenge on her old rival, the bear, was nice.

I've been a little bit sick lately, and I took up some volunteering work for my community. As a result, the next few chapters may be a little bit slower than I would like (I try to keep to an every-other-week schedule, unless calamity strikes). However, if all goes well I'll bust it out quick and tidy up a few loose ends and you beautiful readers will be none the wiser, besides this admission of guilt.

As usual, thanks for reading and I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story if you've committed this far. There's a long ways to go yet, and I hope you'll stick around for later installments too.

Getting The Ropes

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Chapter Seven: Getting The Ropes

Leaves crackled as they were consumed by fire. Embers blossomed high in the air, painting the dark sky with spots of orange and red. The campfire bathed its creators in a generous warm glow, but they shivered despite it. Beside the blaze which had eaten up all the nearby trees, hours previously, this fire was weak. The weight of a pony's stare was enough to make it collapse on itself, birthing another wave of sparks. Even though the night never ended it still grew colder and slightly darker as the evening progressed.

“Collect more wood,” Trixie commanded, looking sharply at Mwali.

The zebra looked briefly towards the forest. “It won't matter,” he said, “I've never seen another pony so poor at tending a campfire.”

Trixie fished a coal out of the fire and chucked it at Mwali. The zebra jumped up instinctively, watching as the glowing rock rolled lazily to a stop. They traded glares until he sat down and turned back to the fire in silence. It had been like that ever since Trixie escaped the tunnel and they had agreed to wait for the others. The tension between them was thick, as Mwali tried to read Trixie's thoughts, and Trixie fought to hide any inkling of them.

The Great and Powerful Trixie was never unsure, nor confused. Even if she slipped up sometimes, she did her best to remain in control. Now, however, Trixie wasn't even remotely sure of what was going on in her head. Within the game she felt as though she was in her element, stronger, wiser, a towering figure. Yet for all her power and knowledge, there were very static limitations, based on the game-world's rules. Being that they had only just started playing, those limits were shallow, which left them very vulnerable ponies in a very dangerous world.

“We should discuss how we're going to get out,” said Mwali.

Trixie had half the mind to throw another coal at him. “This is just a cheap trick on Socks' part, as soon as the others are here we will convince him to end the game,” Trixie rested her head on her hooves as she spoke, “there's nothing else to discuss.”

Mwali maintained his stare firmly, he replied, “What if he doesn't? If the only way out is to complete his game, what then? Will we remain trapped here as our bodies wither in Equestria?”

“Any spell can be broken,” Trixie explained, as though to a foal, “it's a basic rule of magic, nothing can be done that can't be UN-done. Once the princess arrives I'm sure she'll show us all what fabulous alicorn magic can do to dispel this illusion.”

The zebra huffed, “Shouldn't The Great and Powerful Trixie be able to do the same?”

“Even if Trixie had the magical volume to end a spell this elaborate, she doesn't know any spells of disillusionment, and we don't know if they would work in this world.”

“Why would one who plays a master of magic not know how to break it?”

The mare rolled her eyes and stood up fussily, “My entire career is based on enchanting ponies, why would I ever need to do the opposite?”

The answer seemed obvious enough, Mwali held his tongue. Maybe to ponies it made no sense, softened as they were by centuries of peace. If one uses a power then one should also be prepared to defend against it. Whether or not Trixie was a powerful spellcaster made no difference if her scope was too limited. The most powerful unicorn in Equestria was useless with such a gaping hole in her knowledge. Mastery meant not only being capable of a skill, but being capable of rendering it ineffective, that was how Mwali had been raised.

The mare went on, frustrated by the unimpressed frown on Mwali's face, “If Trixie could find a seam, a loose spot in Socks' universe, there's a slight chance I could wake up our sleeping forms.”

“How would one find this 'seam'?”

For what felt like the millionth time that day Trixie sighed, “You don't. They're just there.”

“Nopony can find them, or you can't find them?”

“It would take powerful detection magic,” Trixie snapped. Just then, an idea smacked her across the face. She raised a hoof to point at the zebra, “which you have. Illusionist magic is the strongest utility magic, if you get more powerful you might be able to use the Detect Magic spell to find a seam.”

The corner of Mwali's mouth twitched upwards, “and you could use that to get us out.”

The showmare gave a little hop. Abruptly she realized that she was grinning, pleased at the suggestion. Trixie subdued her expression and replaced it with a frown. She replied in a dejected tone, “It doesn't matter though, that could take weeks. Princess Luna will be here with Socks... prime to take the glory.”

“You don't seem like the type of pony to leave her fate in another's hoof.” Mwali laid down so they were eye-level again. A bemused expression played on his face.

She didn't respond. For all that she had dreamed of Age of Nightmare now she only wanted to leave it as soon as possible. Trixie was genuinely afraid, but more than that she was infuriated by the sense of imprisonment. Socks held all the strings in that world, and even if he really could them safe she disliked being a pawn to his will. The entire point of playing his game was to prove that she could beat him, but she wasn't willing to risk her life by staying in his world any longer than she had to.

The zebra took on a sagely voice as he said, “Every hero was once small in size, given your time, Trixie, you will arise.”

Trixie watched him inquisitively. With his eyes shut he looked like he was at peace. She shook her head and gave a snort, “Heroes are foalish. Overrated ponies who were in the right place at the right time.”

Mwali opened his eyes, struck by what she had said. As he opened his mouth to reply he was interrupted by a noise.

The rustling came from the forest and was accented by several voices. Trixie and Mwali both stood, prepared for a scuffle. Both of them had small injuries, but nothing that would slow them down in fight or flight. It proved pointless, as one of the voices – boasting about the merits of a fedora – quickly revealed their identities. Socks had returned with the others, and they emerged from the forest to lay eyes on the small campsite.

“Finally,” Topstitch sighed in relief, quickening his pace as he went to Trixie's side.

As he attempted to wrap a hoof around the mare's neck she ducked under it. Trixie tilted her head and regarded him with a mixture of horror and disgust. “What in Tartarus did you do to your horn?” she asked, reaching up to poke the faintly illuminated fractures.

It was Topstitch's turn to evade, putting a step between himself and Trixie. He replied, “It's just the game, my character had a broken horn so mine is too.”

Trixie gave a single harsh laugh, “Trixie is aware of that, why does it look like a glowstick? You didn't really try to use it, did you?”

It was hard to tell if Trixie was concerned or making fun of him. Either way it did nothing to improve Topstitch's surly mood. “What about you two?” he asked, “Did anything happen?”

“We found the bear,” said Mwali as he came to join them, “it would have swallowed Trixie whole if Socks hadn't helped her.”

“It wouldn't have been there in the first place if not for him,” Trixie reminded them, casting a gloomy look at the haberdasher hiding behind Topstitch.

“Greetings, Great and Powerful Trixie and Mwali,” said Luna as she arrived behind the others.

Joe was just behind her and added his own greetings.

Topstitch waved aside Trixie's complaint, “Socks has an idea on how to get us out-”

“Simple,” Trixie interrupted, jabbing a hoof at the princess, “she uses a disillusionment charm.”

“That's not going to work...” Topstitch replied, pushing Trixie's hoof back down. The mare batted her eyes in irritation, inviting him to explain.

“Her Highness chose a pegasus as her race, she can't use any magic,” he said.

Trixie still didn't understand, “but she's an alicorn,” she said.

Topstitch shook his head, “Not here.”

With a loud growl Trixie turned away from them. The mare stomped off, muttering to herself and kicking stones aside. The others glanced around before following her. They joined her around the fire and each took a place, Joe adopted the duty of keeping it alive. Socks paced back and forth nearby. The others watched with bated breath, waiting for him to share his solution.

“I believe you need to beat the game- wait, wait!” Socks protested as the others gave a collective sigh, “not all of it! After I realized how short we were on time I cut out a lot of the content I had prepared. This world runs on a script, so when it runs out of words to follow it should end.”

To show them this Socks retrieved a notebook, he pulled it out of the air as if from an imaginary pocket. When they leaned in to observe he flipped through the pages. There were only a few, compared to the small encyclopedia he had prepared for the game originally. Socks skipped ahead, to the back of the book, confirming what he'd said before tucking it back away in mid-air.

“This is the first adventure, it takes place in a passage inside the bear's den. I knew Trixie couldn't resist peeking inside,” the haberdasher gave a satisfied chuckle. He went on, “the book doesn't go beyond this, it's all I had with me at the table. If you play out this dungeon we run out of script, magic things happen, the world goes all wobbly, then we wake up!”

Donut Joe gave a grunt, “Not that it looks like we got any other choice, but what sort of stuff did you put in there?”

Part of Socks quivered angrily. Would they never stop asking him for help? Still, he supposed they wouldn't be too pleased if he gave another excuse. He flipped through the notebook as he spoke, “La, de da, traps... traps... hidden doors, more traps – that was a funny one, actually – um, basic monsters, nothing that should trouble you. I hope you don't mind slime though, could get a little traumatizing near the end.”

As ever, Topstitch wasn't amused by Socks' attempts to share information without spoiling the whole thing.

“Then we need simply follow thy script and all will be well,” said Luna.

Socks clung to his notebook protectively.

“We'll need weapons,” said Topstitch. “We lost ours when the diamond dogs got us,” he looked expectantly at Knee Socks.

“Ugh, it wouldn't take you that long to buy new ones...” Socks got up and cleared his throat nonetheless, “Ahem... make a spot check, please. Topstitch, you have the best sight bonus.”

The seamster glanced around his companions, then back at Socks, not sure what to do. There were no dice for him to roll within the world. “Socks, I don't-”

“Close enough...” the haberdasher sighed.

A pale green light shone down on them as a green twenty-sided die appeared in the sky. It tumbled across an invisible board, teetered on an edge, and finally settled. A big gold fourteen stared down at them.

Socks looked at the number distastefully but went on, orating as if the words came from his script, “In the corner of your eye you spot a glint of metal hidden amongst the rocks in the cave entrance.”

Before he'd finished talking Topstitch caught sight of something. He wasn't even listening as he turned to watch the cave's mouth. It was there, just as described, a small glint of metal. The stallion got up and went to investigate, followed closely by Mwali and Luna.

“There was nothing there,” said the zebra, “I cleared it myself.”

As Topstitch bent to look, however, he saw the shiny buckle of a strap attached to a large sack. He took the strap in his teeth and yanked the bag out of the rubble, tipping it over and prompting a number of items to fall out noisily. Behind them Socks winced and muttered something about encounters. The three ponies assembled before the cave were too surprised by their find to bother checking what he meant.

An assortment of weapons now lay in the dirt below them. There was a bandolier of short, thin knives, made for throwing, they obviously belonged to Barbas Shortsnout, the ranger, but Topstitch had no clue how to use them. A slightly deteriorated short-sword tumbled out hilt-first and nearly sliced his leg as it fell over, that belonged to Luna, or Lady Lunamoon. Also in the pile was a dirk with a long curved blade and a stout double-edged sword with an ornate silver-adorned pommel. Judging by the name 'Splinty Wiggledorf' etched into the blade, it could only be the pricey gladius belonging to Donut Joe.

“More would be useful,” Luna said thoughtfully, “these will do fine in dire situations, but are ill-suited if we need to strike from afar.”

Looking at the pile of steel Topstitch hadn't even considered the sinister purpose they were meant for. It occurred to him all at once that they were meant to actually use those things, with lethal force. Luna took up her raggedy sword in her teeth, stepping apart from them to give it a few test swings. The princess seemed all too comfortable with weapons, but Topstitch imagined she had used them before. Luna must have grown up in a very different Equestria.

Luna stuck her sword in the ground and stretched out her tongue, a vile taste clung to it from holding the grip in her mouth. A small look was all she needed to note Topstitch's concerned expression. Sympathy flashed through her eyes. “Bear in mind if you are forced to slay a creature in this world, they are not real. Thou mustn't hesitate as thou might in our own Equestria.”

“I'd feel better if I didn't have to get so close,” said Topstitch, nudging the dirk with his hoof.

“I will lead from the front,” Luna replied reassuringly, “if thou are unprepared, do not follow.”

Topstitch nodded reluctantly, “We should wait until morning then, so that we can all get used to holding these.”

Luna nodded. Topstitch took the rest of the weapons and went back to lay by the fire. As if by magic Donut Joe had transformed the pitiful embers into a tower of writhing flame. Trixie's gloom had been overpowered by incredulity as covertly interrogated the confectioner on his methods. Princess Luna looked back at her sword, unease brewed in her stomach. No pony should be forced to take up arms, let alone be comfortable doing so, she thought. As she did her gaze fell on Mwali, if he felt any anxiety about the situation he was masking it well.

“What of you?” she asked.

To her surprise, Mwali smiled, “Where I grew tribe fought tribe, they fought for land, for respect, and pride. For me, princess, it's no different here than in any other life..”

He turned away and left her to reflect on that. Pangs of regret came to her heart. The wars of the East were sporadic, but brutal. It was a land far from Equestria, enough so that Celestia had little say in the how they conducted themselves. With their powers it would've been simple enough to end the fighting, Luna had witnessed it in the past. Celestia feared that such dire interference in zebra affairs would only expand the scope of their conflict, and neither princess was willing to risk bringing it to Equestria. It was a stalemate, and one that weighed heavily on both Luna and her sister.

By the time she returned to them the other ponies had lightened up. At Joe's prodding he and Topstitch were having a knife-throwing competition. The stallions took turns whipping their necks and flinging the knives from their teeth, but most of their throws resulted in a floppy tumble through the air and a sudden plummet into the dirt. Socks criticized them from the sidelines, pointing out that both of their characters should've been proficient with the knives. Trixie sat nearby, guffawing at their attempts.

As Topstitch sank another knife into the ground only a few inches from his hooves Trixie began to shake her head,. She laughed, “If you were aiming for an anthill, well done.” When the stallion jumped backwards in alarm she laughed harder, and he realized she had been kidding.

“Well, I doubt you could do better,” he replied.

“Pfft.” Trixie got up, her horn glowing faintly as she picked up a knife and sent it flying into the stump. It struck with a dull thud and sunk in an inch. “Easy,” she said, with a satisfied grin.

Joe forced a laugh, “Yea, sure it is, when you cheat.”

With an indignant gasp Trixie got up and approached the line they were throwing from. At her haughty look Donut Joe held out a knife, handle first, which she clenched between her teeth. Getting into position, she grunted through the steel at both stallions and they cleared the space. Trixie pushed her hat up a little so that the brim wasn't in her eyes. The showmare took a deep breath as she turned her head as much as she could without losing sight of the target. She exhaled, whipping her head around and letting the blade fly out of her mouth. It helicoptered through the air before planting itself, slightly crooked, into the stump, just above the first one she'd thrown.

Joe's jaw hit the floor. “'Ey, can somebody tell me if I missed the chapter in Lulamoon's backstory where she became a knife throwin' expert?”

Trixie smiled as though she'd just won the World Cup, “Trixie spent the better part of her career performing at fairs and circuses across Equestria, knife throwing was bound to be at one of them. Trixie wasn't going to lose to Double Edge after he bet the last sweet roll that he could throw a knife more accurately.”

“Very well,” said Luna, in full regal tone, as she stepped forwards, “If it is a contest then We shall compete too, knife-throwing was once a royal tradition.”

As Trixie stepped aside the royal alicorn took her place, Topstitch got another knife from his bandolier on the ground and offered it. Princess Luna bit firmly and eyed the stump with Trixie's two successful shots buried in its bark. Luna's aim locked on a crack in the bark directly between Trixie's previous throws. She drew her head to the side, eye not leaving the crevice she had sighted in on. Swish! She snapped her neck around as hard as she dared and let fly the knife. It went soaring high into the air, its whooshing noises like taunts flying back to her as it flipped over and disappeared into the woods.

Luna stared after it, under the wild pretense that it might come back and score a hit. It did not. Trixie hung onto Joe as she burst out laughing, drumming on the stallion's side as if he were a bar-top. Topstitch couldn't help but feel like she'd still done better than him. Princess Luna affixed a dissatisfied frown at the trees and turned away to fetch another knife.

“We will show thee,” she said, silencing Trixie's mirth, “the Princess of the Night has a keen eye, and unparalleled throwing skills.”

In the following hours Luna would only prove that her keen eye was very much out of practice. The ponies stayed up for a long while, either tossing more knives at the stump or else searching the woods for the ones that the princess and Donut Joe had managed to lose. Topstitch hadn't improved by much, but he could at least throw his knives into the woods as accurately as any of the others by the time they all settled down.

Without any blankets they were forced to huddle as close to the fire as possible. It took each of them an inordinate amount of time to fall asleep. Although it was dark enough by far, it was still impossible to tell if it was really night or day. Besides that, none of them were quite accustomed to sleeping on the cold moist dirt. Trixie had issues even allowing her cape's hem to touch the ground, but she was one of the first to fall – noisily snoring – to her sleep. The others soon followed suit.

Luna was the last one awake, left to stare up at the stars that she had not painted across the sky. She observed also the unyielding moon, which glowed far more brightly than Luna could ever remember having seen. Ironically, as she watched the object of her admiration she could only think of her sister. The last time she had known a night sky that wasn't her own, it had belonged to Celestia. What had become of her in the Nightmare world? Luna sighed and thought to herself, perhaps that is a question I do not wish to know the answer to.

* * *

When 'morning' came and all the ponies were roused they wasted no time in readying themselves and headed for the cave. They were all ill-rested and in poor spirits, and each of them was coping poorly with their empty bellies. Without knowing which way to town, however, their only choice was to finish Socks' quest and eat their fill back in the real world. The haberdasher had disappeared, leaving them with no hints. There was no small amount of anxiety in the air as the five ponies trekked into darkness.

“So how're we supposed to know what we're looking for?” asked Joe. The stallion prodded Trixie's flank as she walked ahead of him.

The showmare swished her tail in Joe's face and looked back scathingly. “Trust me, we'll know. If there's a hidden door either Mwali or Topstitch should be able to find it.”

“Who made you the team player?” he teased.

“It's not Trixie's fault that the battlemage's skills are focused towards combat. Lulamoon is not a utility character, she was designed to deal damage.” Trixie realized only at the end of her explanation that he was toying with her. The unicorn groaned and looked ahead.

Luna, at the head of the group, spoke up on the subject, “That is all fine and well, but how do we use our skills?”

Trixie shrugged.

“I think it's simpler than we're making it,” said Topstitch, walking beside her. “In the real world you announce what you want to do, but the real characters already know how to do it. We know how to make use of their abilities through instinct.”

“That seems a fair guess, learn through necessity.” Mwali was taking up the second spot in their line, positioned off to the side so that he could see ahead of the princess.

It wasn't long before they had an excuse to put the theory to the test. They had reached the minecart Trixie found the day before, and with it a dead end. It didn't take a genius to see that the track which the cart traveled on disappeared into the walls on either side of the room. In the stark glow from Trixie's light spell they could plainly see a seam around the stone of both walls, and no visible switches or buttons.

Each of the ponies filed into the small alcove and mulled about. Trixie was lured towards the minecart again, eager to examine its contents. Topstitch followed her, still suspecting that she would somehow get herself into trouble. Luna and Joe were testing the strength of the wall on their left while Mwali looked over the hidden door opposite them. The zebra's hex marks glowed as he cast a spell to detect what was beyond the passage.

Trixie had propped herself against the minecart and was sifting through its contents. It was filled with a number of jagged hunks of crystal, but none of them seemed particularly valuable. Trixie wasn't even sure what type of gem it was. She stored a smaller piece within a pocket of her cape for future inspection.

“You're still trying to find everything Socks hid in here,” Topstitch commented, smirking as she continued digging through the pile.

Trixie came up for air with a cloud of rock dust around her nose as she replied, “Trixie said she'd beat the hatter, and I intend for it to be a spectacular defeat.” The showmare dropped to all-fours and continued looking around the minecart's base for anything that might have been tucked out of the way.

“There's something over here, I can feel magic but the purpose is unclear.” Mwali looked to Trixie as if for orders.

“Open the other passage first,” said Trixie, tilting her head towards Luna and Joe. “Topstitch, they're going to need you.”

“How do you know this is the correct one?” asked the princess.

Trixie reached underneath the minecart as she replied, searching for a hidden panel or some other nonsense, “The passage with magic is likely the way we're supposed to go. The other way should have treasure or useful items.”

At her prodding Topstitch had already begun searching for a way to open it. Although he'd never opened a secret tunnel before he had read a few fantasy novels. Some of those involved similar scenarios, and taught him what irregularities to look for in the stone. Slight color variation, a seam, or a noticeable texture were all dead giveaways. The seamster tried to settle in to the mindset of a cunning thief, carefully scanning over each inch of the wall with his eyes.

“If that is the quickest route to our objective, why then should we open this passage instead?” Luna continued her inquiry.

“Equipment,” said Trixie, “Socks is a traditionalist, Trixie suspects he'll reward us for venturing off-course. That usually means small loot, torches, magic stones, things we might need for this quest. Healing items would be nice, but that may be hoping for too much.”

There was a loud click. The wall trembled and began sinking into the ground, calling all their gazes to it. Luna flared out her wings to push the others back. Trixie's horn gave a faint glimmer as the ghostly light hovering above the group dove through the gap and flooded the corridor ahead of them with light. As the last of the rock sank away they looked into a narrower tunnel, the tracks led around a darkened corner and out of sight on a slight incline.

“Another point for Trixie,” said the satisfied showmare as she stepped past the rest of them, nose high in the air.

Joe chuckled and followed after her, the other three fell in behind. The showmare's confidence was rubbing off on the rest of them. They progressed further up and into the mountain, following the tracks until they reached a dead-end where the ceiling had caved in. After checking the debris for loot they entered a small alcove, which led through a more traditional mineshaft and ended in a flimsy wooden door.

Despite its decrepit state the door didn't open easily. It wasn't locked but something was blocking it from the other side. Joe being the strongest among them, they cleared the path to allow him some space. With a single hard kick from his rear right leg the door broke about the middle and shook on its hinges. The confectioner drew back his leg with minor scratches from the splinters. The door didn't fall off, but it was damaged enough that Trixie could tear it apart with magic while not wasting her allotted energy.

“Dear Celestia...” breathed Topstitch.

Before them lay a confusing scene. They looked into a large rectangular room that appeared to have been the site of a battle. One of the three long tables had been positioned to block the door, broken chairs were rotting all about the floor, dishes lay in varying degrees of wholeness as well. Mixed among the wreck was an assortment of aged and battered weapons. Halberds, swords, shields, even bits of tattered clothing all littered the ground in a wide radius. Despite all this there were no bodies to be found, and certainly no survivors. It was as though someone had simply destroyed the room, blocked the door, and left. On the far side of the room was another door, sturdier than the last.

As with the minecart before, Trixie was quick to start picking through the mess. The weapons were useless, for the most-part, and there wasn't anything hidden among them. They were also all coated in a congealing substance. The unicorn mare gave a drawn out 'ew' as she wiped her hoof clean on Topstitch's cloak.

Luna went to try the door at the far end of the room. Surprisingly it was locked, but that only confirmed her suspicions that whoever had been in the room must've fled through it. That didn't give them any answers as to what had happened, but it gave them a lead. The princess knocked on the door, testing its thickness, it seemed sturdy enough to withstand brute force.

“Do any of you know a way to break a lock?” Luna asked the room at large.

There was a round of shaking heads. Donut Joe reluctantly raised his hoof and indicated the leg he had used to bash in the former passageway. Luna shook her head softly in reply. She turned back to the door and drew her sword. The others watched as she attempted to unseat the latch by jamming the blade of her weapon into the crack of the door, but succeeded only in nearly bending her sword.

The princess hummed, “Could we blast it open, Trixie?”

Finished picking through for loot, Trixie took a look at the offending object. Her expression supplemented the futility of her reply, “Trixie could blast the lock open, but even my weakest spell would be far too overwhelming for the structural mediocrity of the framework... it would cave in and crush us all.”

“Tempting offer,” said Topstitch sarcastically.

“Neither suffocation nor blunt trauma are ways I would like to go,” Mwali added, even less helpful.

Joe eyed the overturned table nearest him dubiously, giving it a light kick. “We could make a ram?” he suggested.

It seemed like their best option, but was more difficult than anticipated in practice. Without a properly built ram it was a challenge to grip the table in a way that they could hit the door with enough force to open it. After a few clumsy attempts they realized they wouldn't be able to turn the table into a suitable piece of equipment without proper tools. Instead they came up with a simpler solution. Using the weapons strewn across the ground they took turns attempting to pry off the hinges, and little by little they made progress.

“Huzzah!” cried Luna at last, whooping as the door's top hinge clattered to the ground. The door wobbled ominously on its last half-secured hinge.

With an axe blade hooked around the hinge, Mwali gave a last mighty heave. The hinge fell off and the door shook. It fell inwards immediately, nearly squishing the zebra before Topstitch yanked him out of the way. The hunk of wood hit the ground with an astounding cacophony as it smashed clay dishes and broken swords. Mwali gave his thanks to Topstitch before they all moved forwards to check out the next passage.

It was a dead-end. The circular room beyond the door had no other exit. It was lined with shelves filled with dusty glass bottles, barrels sat on one side in a stack whilst crates and sacks were piled high opposite them. There was a small rack of weapons hanging on one side of the room, seemingly untouched. Some of the sacks or barrels were partly open, but the room seemed like it hadn't been disturbed in a very long time. Most importantly there was no other exit and no ponies, alive or otherwise, inside.

“I do not understand,” said Luna.

“It's a storeroom,” Trixie replied, stating the obvious.

Luna gave her a brusque look. “That much was clear, where are the ponies who left behind their weapons? They could not have blocked the door from the outside.”

“Hey, who cares?” said Donut Joe, peeking in one of the nearest barrels. “There's food in here!”

Trixie watched with distaste as Joe lifted a hoof-ful of undeniably ancient crackers out of the container. “Trixie is not going to eat stale, dry bits of cracker-shaped dust.”

Joe considered the morsel before taking a bite. It was certainly stale, dry, and flavorless to boot, but it was food. It quelled the rumbling in his stomach, if only a little. Upon the good omen, that Donut Joe hadn't keeled over, the other stallions began to open crates and barrels, checking which ones contained food that could have been preserved and which were definitely beyond the realm of edible.

“Does cider have an expiration date?” Topstitch inquired, looking through the bottles on the shelves.

Luna turned to leave, going to examine the mess hall again. Trixie followed. “What does thou make of it?” asked the princess.

“Theatrics, of course,” said Trixie. “Socks is saving the reveal for when it's most dramatic. Really, Trixie would give him credit for it if it wasn't obvious.”

“Thou art a true 'geek',” said Luna.

Trixie spun about as if she were going to pounce on the princess. “Trixie is not a geek! The Magnificent Trixie didn't come all this way to be insulted for her deductive prowess.”

Backpedaling, Luna rushed to explain herself, “We only meant that thou art truly proficient, as Our sister explained it 'geeks' are among the true veterans of the world of role-playing. Is this not so?”

“Trixie is not a geek!” the azure mare reiterated loudly before scampering away in distress, back towards the storeroom. Luna stared after her, confused, and unaware whether or not she was in the wrong. It was possible that she'd misinterpreted Celestia's use of the term.

It turned out not to be a waste of time. As Trixie had suggested, the storeroom was home to a small bit of loot. They found rucksacks tucked away in one corner, which made a handy carrying bag for the torches they took and some of the food they judged safe to eat. They opted to take with them the weapons from the racks as well, adding a war axe with a long crescent blade, a short-sword of fine folded steel, and a spear with a lengthy broadhead and two sharp prongs beneath it. Mwali took the spear and now wore it across his back, sticking out ahead of him over his right shoulder, a small leather strap hung down so that he could aim and stab the spear with his foreleg.

After organizing their spoils they headed back the way they came, eventually reaching the minecart again. Luna was glad to be out of the room with all the abandoned weapons. The group lingered a while to indulge on a meal comprised of the tasteless finds. More than anything else the objective was to kill time until Socks showed up. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that, wherever he was, he was paying them no mind. They could only hope the haberdasher was working on a solution to get them out, or at least orchestrating things to keep them out of harm's way.

Once everypony was ready to move on it was relatively easy to find the switch to the second hidden passage. Just as before the stone wall slid out of the way, disappearing into the ground and revealing a tunnel, which descended into the mountain and trailed off into darkness. Trixie directed her illusory light that way and it bounced along off the floor and walls.

There was something slightly more intimidating about going underground versus towards the peak of the mountain. Luna went first, with Topstitch beside her to keep an eye open for traps. Trixie followed after them, leaving Mwali and Donut Joe to take up the rear. The air got colder the further they went, and the darkness pressed harder around them. Even with the magical light source it was becoming hard to see. When her light was reduced to little more than a firefly trailing along ahead of them Trixie realized that it had to be the effects of either a darkness spell or some sort of magical dampening.

“Who has the torches?” Trixie asked, bringing the party to a halt.

The confectioner called forwards from the darkness behind her. A moment later his outline squeezed past Mwali in the tight space and he held out an unlit torch to the showmare. Hopefully they still worked. As the others watched she lowered her horn to touch the wrapped top of the torch and a small ember jumped towards it. Immediately the head caught and turned into a blaze which illuminated the whole hallway and all five ponies in a wavering glow.

“Always knew there was a spark between us,” Joe mumbled through the wood in his mouth. Trixie smirked and turned away.

Luna looked from the torch to Trixie's magic light just as it blinked out. “Should we be concerned?” the princess asked.

“There may be traps here,” admitted Trixie, “if that was supposed to cut off our light source Trixie suspects they'll be easy to see. The spell should only affect weak magic though. Battle spells should still work.”

They only traveled a short distance before her warning became prophetic. The group stopped before a small gap in the floor, roughly five feet across and spanning the tunnel's entire width. It appeared to be a trapdoor that had malfunctioned at some point, on the wall of either side was a slab of would-be flooring with a stretch of tracks attached to it. In any case it seemed easy enough to cross.

“Unless there's something magical about this, I don't see anything we should worry about.” Topstitch had only given a cursory glance of the area, but remained confident.

Mwali stepped forwards, peering over the edge into a blackness with uncertain depth. “Who goes first?” he asked, taking a few steps away.

“Sounds like you volunteered...” said Joe.

The zebra shook his head firmly in reply.

With a noisy woosh Princess Luna cleared the gap. The alicorn's wings could only unfold partially in the cramped cave, but it was still far more than she needed to make the jump. From the other side she looked back at them, her gaze exuded satisfaction. She backed up and bowed low, beckoning to them with a sweeping gesture of her hoof.

“I suppose that's a solid endorsement...” said Topstitch. The seamster wasted no time in gathering a running start and followed the princess across.

Donut Joe followed soon after. The confectioner nearly dropped his torch into the pit as he jumped, causing a moment of alarm that ruined his landing. The stallion fell on his side and rolled over once before coming to a rest. The torch, still ablaze, rolled a foot or two away, and came dangerously close to lighting Luna's forelegs on fire. With a groan Donut Joe cracked his neck and got up, he held a hoof in the air to assure them he was fine as he recovered the torch.

“Try an' top that,” Joe panted.

“Trixie will have you know she won the Canterlot Junior Show Jumping Competitors Open.” The showmare stretched out her forelegs and rolled her head in preparation. She bolted towards the edge of the pitfall. Then her front left hoof caught a patch of stone awkwardly. Instead of raising, her entire front half fell slack, and her nose absorbed the force of the floor as well as a bag of chips might. Her aft section lingered in the air as a loud siren went off, calling her attention to the glowing green die over her head, which showed a violent red three.

“Wait!” Topstitch shouted from across the divide.

Before Trixie could react a force hit her from behind. Another siren went off and she had time enough to see a big red '1' appear on the next shape to materialize in the air. The zebra-shaped sack of bricks that had collided with her sent both of them careening off the edge and over a bleak descent. Trixie wailed as she swung her hooves, seeking the wooden slats of the cart tracks while Mwali was blinded by her cape. The black and white equine's eyes became blank saucers with only tiny pinpricks for pupils as he fell.

Luna's defiant shout broke Trixie's scream as the princess dove headfirst into the pit. Her wings tucked in close to her form and she shot down like an arrow. Trixie looked after her and tried to warn her off, but was unable to move without falling in herself. There was no way Luna's wings would be able to snap open wide enough to save them from the fall, let alone get back up. Topstitch had already leapt across the divide again and was laying on his belly, reaching out to pull Trixie back up.

“C'mon Luna,” Joe pleaded, his muzzle practically graying before their eyes as he peered helplessly into the pit. “I'll give up everything I ever baked if you make it.”

“GAH!” The sound of something sentient and very mushy hitting something solid was followed by rather un-princess-like expletives.

Those on either side of the pit blinked at each other and down at the shadows in confusion.

Beneath the black fog the pit extended only a few feet. Mwali had landed in a heap, suffering only minor damage, while the princess had dived nose-first, straight into the rock, and as a result lay on the floor as she whined softly and rubbed her face. It was karma, she knew, for the slight amusement she'd felt when Trixie had fallen. As she fought off the tears of pain she registered that the Mwali was now looming over her.

The zebra was still shaking as he stood beside the princess, staring down at her almost pitiful shape. His limbs hurt, but he was otherwise whole. More astonishing, however, was that the regal creature griping at his hooves had risked her life for him. He wasn't her subject, they weren't even the same race and she'd not wasted a second. The zebra reached out a hoof slowly to help her, but quickly retracted it as she stirred and began to rise.

“Skittering legs can be heard. Glittering eyes light the darkness in the small alcoves around you. The hairs of your tail tickle as you realize you are not alone here. Suddenly they pour upon you, eight-legged black monsters with coarse hair and hungering gazes. Their mandibles snap loudly as they beckon you to become their next meal...” a ghostly laugh echoed throughout the tunnel.

“Hey, that ain't funny!” said Joe. He had no time to hope for a reply as small black arachnids poured out of whatever cracks and holes in the tunnel's face they could find. The confectioner gave a surprised grunt as he wheeled around to face the bugs, waving his torch at them and attempting to stamp them back. Topstitch and Trixie were no safer, their side of the tunnel was also quickly being filled with spiders.

Mwali and Luna had it the worst. Upon rising and looking about they'd realized the sticky floor around them was covered in small eggs, eggs which they had smashed. Each one was emitting a vapor that was summoning more and more bugs to them. Worse than the small ones, however, were the spiders that soon crawled from smaller hallways at the bottom of the pit. Each one ranged from the size of a large cat to a border collie, and there were a few to be spoken of.

“Mwali, we need light!” Luna shouted, stomping on a few of the smaller bugs.

The shocked zebra gave a nod and his hexes glowed softly as he focused on a spell. The only ones he could remember would only give them a brief flash though, short of any guarantee they could scare away the swarm. Tiny legs tingled up his own, prompting a shiver. Mwali decided it didn't matter and smashed the nearest bugs underhoof with a fierce snort as he gathered up the magic in his markings and let out a silent explosion of bright white. All as one the spiders hissed and fell back, if only for a moment.

Meanwhile swathes of fire could be heard lashing back and forth back up top. Trixie was back to her old tricks, bathing the cave in a manic spray of heat from her horn. It was quickly exhausting her spell power as she was forced to use stronger magic to counteract the dampening effect. It was all Topstitch could do to stay out of the flames.

“Can you two get up?” the seamster shouted down, having deduced that they were okay by their sounds.

“We are presently indisposed, when thou bringeth a ladder we shall consider thy question again!” Luna's words were enunciated with grunts as she smashed the spiders around her. Soon she was forced to pull her sword from its sheath to take on the larger arachnids as Mwali speared a huge one between its eyes.

Joe called back, “Rope an' torches is all I got for ya.”

“If you've no plan to light us aflame, as I hope,” Mwali retorted, “then proceed with the rope.”

“Yea, sure. Easy to say, like to see you do it.” Joe dropped his torch on the ground, then lit a second and dropped it as well, effectively warding off the spiders. He was quick to fetch the rope from the supplies they'd found earlier.

He looped one end around himself and threw the other down, never mind how he was meant to pull up a zebra that was bigger than he was, plus the princess. Down below, Luna forced the rope towards Mwali as she slashed with wild power and surprising accuracy at the arachnids attempting to bite her ethereal tail. Once the zebra had tied himself on he gave a tug. His entire lower half was covered in bugs, he could even feel them under his armor.

Joe began to pull with all of his might. A twenty-sided die appeared above his head, rolling slowly in its place as it contemplated what score to give. It landed on an even eighteen, and Joe gave a powerful tug. Jerking at his stomach, the rope pulled Mwali up a foot or two, nearly out of the reach of the spiders. The zebra tried to quell the embarrassment of the situation as he raised a few more inches to the tune of Donut Joe's strained growls.

Beneath them Luna coiled on her haunches, she'd sheathed her sword, and spread her wings as much as the small space would allow. She beat them down powerfully at the same instant that she leapt, propelling herself out of the darkness and just shy of the ledge Joe stood on, close enough to wedge her hoof in the slats of the rail tracks. With no small effort she managed to pull herself up, adding her own strength to Joe's to help pull the zebra up.

“Trixie!” said Topstitch, calling the mare's focus off her opponents as they saw Mwali lifted free of the black abyss – looking like he was going to puke, no less.

The two of them leapt across, luckily having no trouble that time. With all four of them present they managed to get Mwali onto the ledge. The chittering spiders were close behind them, their many legs like the patter of rain as they came closer. Climbing the wall was no issue for them. The arachnids swallowed the side of the pitfall and spread out to consume them. Joe and Mwali each took a torch and the group ran for it, stomping through the spiders that blocked the path forward and going down the tunnel at a full gallop.

“Traps, traps, traps!” Trixie yelled repeatedly, as though this might make it easier to dodge whatever was hidden in the expanse ahead of them.

Their hooves sank on pressure plates and she could hear projectiles whiz past, and in one case a gout of fire. Surviving those, they found themselves at the top of a steep ramp. Joe slipped and went face first, sliding down at top speed. The others didn't have many choices to shed momentum and skied or tumbled after him. A lump of writhing bodies was deposited at the bottom, just inside a pair of large golden doors. The entire tunnel had grown, in fact, now more than large enough to be called a cavern.

Luna leapt from the group and slammed against the nearest of the doors. The other ponies limped and dragged themselves out of the heap and followed suit. Five bodies pressed all their weight against the fifteen foot barriers. Beyond the crack between them Topstitch could see the spiders approaching fast, the biggest ones at the head of the pack. The seamster shouted at the others to push harder and doubled his effort. Trixie blasted off telekinetic magic, using what energy she had left to inch her door shut with Mwali. Despite their great size and weight the doors closed, bit by bit.

With a great final effort they snapped the golden portal shut. Thumps, scratches, and skitters were heard as the spiders piled up on the other side. They climbed over each other and Luna could imagine the entire door being covered in a wriggling black sea, desperately trying to gain entry. The ponies didn't dare move away and entrust their fates to the weight of the doors alone. Little by little the noises died away, until it seemed all was peaceful again in the tunnel behind them. Each of the ponies fell into a gasping lump on the spot, not even bothering to take in their surroundings.

“This...” Trixie wheezed, “is all your fault... stripey.”

“She can't...” said Topstitch, weakly amazed, “even come up... with an insult!”

Donut Joe gave an exhausted yell, rolling over onto his back as he replied, “Next time I'm throwin' you guys across.”

A few chuckles echoed about the room. A delighted haberdasher rested his head on one hoof as he watched them from the shadows. It was like watching a gaggle of jesters poking blame at one-another. To think he'd almost interfered. It would have been too easy to warn them about the pit, or to give them a helping hoof in getting out of it, but they'd done marvelously. Now we're having fun, he thought. A pleasant smile seated itself on his face, and he watched for a while as his players laughed off their narrow escape.

Knowledge Check

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Chapter Eight: Knowledge Check

“They were fluff monsters, fluff!” Socks insisted repeatedly, as he had done so for the past ten minutes that Trixie had been hitting him. “I knew you five could handle them, I don't see what the problem is. Mwali's the one who fell in and triggered it, hit him!”

The zebra edged away from them, “Had Trixie not tripped and found the ground, I could've made the jump and we would all be safe and sound.”

“Well... you did roll a one,” Topstitch pointed out.

This revelation caused a momentary shift in Trixie's targeting. Her lapse in concentration was enough that Socks could poof himself away, appearing beside Luna on the other side of the room. The moon princess was busily cleaning her gear. The sticky substance from the spider eggs proved difficult to remove without a cleaning agent. As the haberdasher appeared to take shelter behind her she slowly turned until they were eye-to-eye.

“You don't blame me, right Princess?” Socks pleaded.

Luna shook her head and replied evenly, “You have said that the rules prevent you from interfering, have you not? If that is the case I am sure you would have helped us, were it that you could."

“Exactly,” said Socks, his tone full of relief. “You all did splendidly anyways. A few more rooms like that and you'll be hardened veterans.”

“A few rooms like that and I may have to take an early retirement when we get back to Canterlot.” Topstitch sighed and stretched until his back popped, “That took years off my life.”

“Worrywart,” the haberdasher retorted. “Rest up here as long as you like, I can give you an introduction to the area if you want,” Sock's grin stretched up to his ears. He prepared his spooky game-master voice for the exercise.

Topstitch waved a hoof to cut him off, “I think we can see for ourselves, unless there's hidden yetis or giant snakes we should be aware of.”

The chamber they'd wound up in was anything but welcoming. At one point or another it had been the home of the spiders they'd encountered. A layer of sticky webbing coated the walls and stretched from the corners of the room to the ceiling. There were many small pods around the walls, which even Trixie wasn't sure she wanted to search. The floor had been remarkably spared, but it was coated in places with a thick goo, similar to what they'd found in the mess hall before.

Although their break felt well-earned they decided to continue on before long. If nothing else it seemed prudent to get as much done as possible while Socks was actually there to be of use. The far end of the room split off into two tunnels. The one which the rails followed had been caved in – Socks confessed that this was the path to the heart of the mines, where the spiders now lived. With Luna once again taking up the lead they embarked down the only path which was left to them.

The further they went the more signs there were of some sort of defense having been set up. There were barricades that had to be dismantled to advance, and more weapons could be found littering the hall. All of it was slathered in the same goo. Trixie was careful to step around the spots where it had congealed into small puddles. The others were likewise hesitant to touch the substance, or anything for that matter. Topstitch was still keeping an eye out for traps, but the slow tense crawl it forced them to move at wasn't doing anything for the group's nerves.

Eventually they made their way into another room, with several others branching off of it.

“It appears to be some sort of laboratory. Alchemy tools are spread out across wooden tables all around the edges of the room. Bottles and beakers glisten, some half full with murky liquids. A host of plants in varying forms litter the tables nearest you, leaves, seeds, stalks, the various herbs used to conduct whatever experiments took place here. A dusty notebook sits atop the table in the center of the room, along with a set of large fangs and a tuft of hair. At the far end of the room is a staircase, the top of which you cannot see.”

“Hatter...” Trixie warned, drawing back her hoof to strike Socks again.

Joe shivered, “Homey place,” he commented.

The haberdasher threw his hood over his head so that Trixie would not see him smiling. “What's first order of business?”

“Can I identify any of the plants?” asked Topstitch.

“What self-respecting ranger couldn't?” chided Socks as his notebook flitted into existence beside him and turned a few pages. “With your skill, you can deduce that most of these are expensive herbs not found locally. Most are toxic hallucinogens, but a few can be used for healing salves.”

Mwali sniffed at a few of the plants beside the seamster. “I recognize these from back home,” he said. “Chuki lily breed anger when breathed in, but can also be used to create a deadly toxin.”

“Shh!” Socks rushed over to silence the zebra, “No outside knowledge, that's called meta-gaming.”

Mwali stared cluelessly between the haberdasher and the plants on the table beside him.

“Meta-gaming!” Trixie snapped, “Using knowledge your character wouldn't know to gain an advantage in the game. Any Nightmare player should know that.”

“Ah,” Mwali growled, “Of course, I should have remembered. Then, what do you expect me to do? I can't forget what I already know.”

That stumped the haberdasher for a moment. True, he couldn't really expect Mwali to gobble up the plant as a player might have in a normal game. “Well... try and keep it to a minimum,” Socks replied. When he'd designed the dungeon he hadn't specified any of the plants by name, so he supposed the random assortment in the lab around them was his price for being negligent.

Trixie rolled her eyes and began combing the outlying rooms for trinkets. A few bits here and there, a shiny ruby necklace hidden in a drawer. The greedy mare bagged a few expensive-looking instruments and turned the barracks upside down looking for hidden compartments. On one of the tables of the main room she found what she was positive had to be windigo fur, which she knew to be particularly valuable. She dragged Joe from table to table, using him and his bag of gear as her own personal bank.

Meanwhile Luna's priorities had been set on the notebook Socks had pointed out in his description. Dusty was correct, it hadn't been touched in ages. The spine crackled obtrusively as she opened to a page at random and stuck her nose into its contents. A caricature of a snarling wolf was the first thing she saw, along with a list of notes detailing the beast's common traits. As she flipped through she saw numerous references to the Nightmare Court in earlier, diary-like, entries. The later sections of the book were dominated with recipes and research notes which Luna couldn't make much sense of. She paused on a page wherein a jagged stone was illustrated many times over.

“Lunar Quartz,” the princess read, “Lycanequus catalyst.” She thought for a moment on that before she had an idea, “Topstitch, could you determine the purpose of these recipes?”

“Oooh,” Socks practically squealed, “No, as a matter of fact he can't. Those are too advanced for him, it's a shame too. They're really important, just not in this quest.”

Luna contemplated the book and the pictured stone. It could've easily passed for the rocks Trixie had been gathering throughout the mine. “Then it would be wise to hold on to the tome?”

The haberdasher hesitated. Even with his hood up Luna could tell he must be frowning as he battled with his desire not to spoil anything. “Yes,” he said as he caved, “you should probably keep it.”

The princess turned the book to Joe's care. The stallion managed to shove it into his bag with only minor rearranging of Trixie's loot.

“Guess having the character with the highest strength automatically makes me the pack mule,” he said as he adjusted the bag on his back.

Luna smiled sympathetically, “Perhaps thy burden would not be as great, were you not carrying a castle's worth of cutlery and candlesticks.”

“Yea,” said Joe amicably. He tipped his head towards the azure unicorn picking through a pile of multicolored rocks, “Keeps G&P in a good mood though.” Joe winked.

While they picked over the rest of the lab Topstitch tested out another of his ranger skills. The seamster went through the plants with Socks' help and ground them together into vile smelling pastes using the tools which were already at hand. He didn't have much of a clue what he was doing, but the dice which rolled over his head as he worked landed on consistently high numbers. Socks assured him that the salves would work as an effective healing agent by the time he was finished.

Once he was finished they mounted the stairs at the far end of the room and ascended onto the next part of the dungeon. They climbed in groups of three, Trixie, Luna, and Joe at the lead whilst the others trailed along behind. While the other five walked with a purpose Socks lollygagged and gradually fell further behind. The others hardly noticed it, but he didn't dare risk disappearing again until they were all occupied.

“Hey,” said Joe, bringing the haberdasher from his thoughts. “What's up next? More spiders, puzzles?”

Socks hummed, a little longer than was necessary to consider the question. Luna flashed him a look over her shoulder, and her authority was not lost on him. He replied sheepishly, “I'd planned an encounter just up ahead. Beyond that landing is the last staircase. It shouldn't be too much trouble.”

“We're not used to fighting,” Topstitch reminded him. “It's easy when you're just saying what you want to happen, but we have to actually fight now.”

“Relax, it's like a dream. You'll be fine, even if you get hurt,” Socks smiled reassuringly before he recalled that they would not see it with his hood up.

“I would not be so certain,” warned Luna.

Trixie cast a sidelong glance at the princess. “What do you mean?”

“I am Princess of the Night, the stuff of dreams are my domain. As such I am familiar with the sensations and rules of the sleeping world. When a dream seems real enough we may experience them, in part, in the waking world as well.” Luna's face scrunched as she tried to think of a way to explain it to them. “Think of when you dream that you are running, and wake with tired limbs, or when you fall from a great height it feels as though you were dropped onto your bed.”

They stopped climbing the stairs. Luna's words hung in the silence as each of them considered what that could mean. Joe chuckled, as if she would reveal her words to be a joke in just a moment. Topstitch considered the dreams he'd had in the past, and how even the most realistic were like Saturday morning cartoons compared to the brilliant tapestry that was Age of Nightmare. Mwali's concern was carefully guarded by his stony expression, though he and Trixie weren't far behind the seamster's train of thought.

Socks rolled his eyes behind the shadow of his hood, “That's crazy talk. It's just a game, I'm no magical expert, but I know illusions can't hurt you.”

Luna furrowed her brow, confused and irritated that he would question her. “If the mind can be fooled then the body will respond. What we perceive to be real is far more important than what we know to be false.”

“Except we know it's a game,” the haberdasher laughed. “We already know it's all fake, so there's no harm.”

“Hah!” Trixie laughed, a little too sharply. She continued with a light stutter, “O-obviously he's right. The Great and Powerful Trixie studied all kinds of illusions, even the best ones can't harm anypony. There's nothing to be a-afraid of, it's just a g-game,”

Luna gazed at each of them in turn. Trixie fought to hide the momentary tremble of her hooves, but the princess took note. Continuing to press the matter wasn't doing anything for the group's morale. She offered a curt nod before replying, “I hope the two of you are correct, but remain on your guard all the same.”

Mwali cleared his throat from above them on the stairs. When they looked to him he said, “If we could come back to matters at hoof, we should discuss a plan. Fighting is not so much about the number of battles a warrior has seen. A foal can strike down a stallion if you but give him a knife and tell him where to place it. To win is to know calm within the chaos of combat.”

“Exactly,” purred the haberdasher. “Stop being such pessimists, you'll be fine as long as you play the game with a cool head.”

More quickly than any of them would have liked, their hooves found the next landing. The six of them spread out at the mouth of a wide hallway. Pillars were carved into either wall, stretching towards a ceiling that was high enough they could not see it. Visible in the shadows were small alcoves, not unlike those the spiders had come from in the halls before. Princess Luna gently bit the grip of her sword and took an experimental step forwards.

Socks edged away from the group. He took one last glance to make sure they weren't paying attention to him before he faded away. Just before he left his ghostly voice echoed past his five companions, “Rolling spot checks.”

The ponies looked around in alarm. A green die appeared above each of their heads and began rolling. Mwali put his hoof on his spear and joined Luna at the head of the group as Trixie readied a spell and the others likewise tensed. They bunched together in a tight circle and quickly got their hooves tangled, only serving to worsen their apprehension. One by one the dice stopped rolling, giving each of them their scores. Trixie, 5; Topstitch, 8; Joe, 9; Luna and Mwali both had a 15.

As if someone had suddenly flicked on a light Luna and Mwali could suddenly make out shapes in the dark. Dark lupine figures with dim white eyes, skulking around the group and crawling from the gaps in the walls. They weren't normal in size either, each of them was nearly as tall as the alicorn princess. A chill ran down Luna's spine as the nearest one began to growl, in a flash of steel she whipped out her sword to answer it. Mwali glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, silently sharing his input. They were outnumbered.

“What is it? Trixie demands you tell her.” The showmare squeaked in surprise as the hairs of Donut Joe's tail brushed against her hind leg. To her eyes they may as well have been standing in pitch blackness. Trixie could hear long claws scratching on stone, she could smell the musk of the predators surrounding them, but she couldn't see them at all. Even Topstitch and Joe could only see vague outlines at the edge of the torchlight.

“Steel yourselves,” said Luna, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mwali scuffed the floor with his hoof. “Stay close to each other, and watch your backs. A lonely pony is easy prey for a wolf pack.”

“Wolves?” Trixie exclaimed.

“There is no disgrace in running,” Luna's features were hard as she focused all her energy on the opponents circling them. “If need be I shall hold them here, and return for you when the battle is finished.”

“Exactly where is Trixie supposed to run?” asked the showmare, nearly shrieking at the princess as she spun in circles looking for the unseen horrors.

Donut Joe put a hoof on Trixie's head and steered her gaze in the direction of the nearest wolf. Once her eyes were locked he jerked his head, lobbing the torch in his teeth towards the darkness. It arced past Luna's protective wing and carried its aura over the muscular gray canine. Its fangs were bared, saliva dripped from its jowls. It barked as if cursing them, startling Trixie, and dove out of the light that had revealed it. Joe pushed Trixie back towards the center of their circle and drew his sword.

“Gotta fight at some point, Your Highness. I'd feel a lot better covering your back than waitin' it out.”

“Technically I'm the villain here, and I can't help you out,” Socks' matter-of-fact voice came to them, more of a reminder than an apology. He tittered and finished, “But good luck!”

That was all the warning they needed to know the wait was over. Topstitch gripped one of his knives fiercely, even as a sense of dread overwhelmed him and made the stallion sick to his stomach. Trixie couldn't tell where to aim, and the uncertainty frightened her far more than the actual prospect of battle. While Donut Joe lacked the expertise of their princess or Mwali he had played a little minor league baseball, and he assumed a batter's stance and mindset.

Mwali's hexes glowed against his fur, a magical flare shot skyward. As one the wolves began their attack, hoping to sink their fangs into flesh before the light could betray their presence. It hit the roof, cracking and bathing the entire hallway in a gory shade of red. Luna raised her buckler just in time to bat away encroaching fangs of the first wolf. It yelped as hard metal studs impacted its jaw and smote it upon the ground. Topstitch slashed wildly to no avail as another wolf tried to attack them from behind, when it prepared to pounce Trixie blasted it off its feet with Magic Missile. All the while little green dice rolled and bounced in the sky, an unwelcome distraction to the five combatants.

The princess was like an omnipresent barrier. A wolf nipped at Trixie's tail, only to be concussed by Luna's hoof. Another two had teamed up on Donut Joe, only to have Luna's blade gnash at their flanks and paws. She beat off their assailants by the score even as they were attacked from all sides. One moment she was on her hooves, barreling towards the next victim, and the next she was floating overhead, assessing where she was to be needed next. She was quicker than any pegasus, and her expression was anything but benevolent. For those moments it wasn't difficult to see the ferocity of a pony who had once threatened all of Equestria.

Mwali was no disappointment either. The zebra's stripes were almost hypnotic as he spun, dashed, and lunged across the battlefield. Snapping jaws narrowly missed him time and time again, but his aim was rarely askew. The spear he had harvested moved and struck as through it was a part of him, the stinger of some bizarre and terrifyingly large scorpion. His focus was offensive, and his success was brutal as he stared into the milky eyes of a snarling beast and drove the broadhead of his spear right between them.

“Is he a zebra or a lion? Sheez,” said Joe, pausing in the combat to admire the warrior.

Topstitch spared a glance as well, only to wish he hadn't. Even in the red glow of Mwali's flare he could make out the coppery rivulets running down the length of the zebra's weapon. “He's a butcher,” the seamster observed.

“Gah!” The princess's surprised yelp prompted them to turn.

A wolf had finally gotten the better of Luna. Whilst she was preoccupied it had pounced at her back and the gargantuan creature now attempted to wrestle her into submission. The others watched in horror as their princess thrashed and attempted to throw it. Luna kicked her head back as far as she could, hitting the monster in the snout and dazing it, but it retaliated by raking its claws along her back, scoring a light wound at the base of her wing. The princess gasped in pain and redoubled her efforts when a long metal shaft punched through the back of the wolf's head and protruded from the other side.

Topstitch watched, wide-eyed, as the monstrosity rolled unceremoniously from the monarch's back. It stared blankly back, its jaws frozen mid-bite, as Mwali tore the spear free again with an undignified ripping noise. Droplets of blood speckled the zebra and the princess beside him even as she turned to offer her thanks. There wasn't much time to dwell, however, as there were still a great many opponents to face.

Ears laid back, their approach more cautious, the wolves had learned that their prey was less incapable than they'd expected. Each one growled and bared its many teeth as they circled the ponies and watched for the best opening. It was impossible to see where they looked with their dim orbs, but there wasn't much guessing. They clustered wherever Luna wasn't, they sniffed the air and lapped at it as if relishing in the fear they sensed from those she tried to protect.

Mwali's muscles could practically be seen quivering with anticipation beneath his skin. His orange eyes flitted from wolf to wolf as the canines circled around them like sharks in the waning red light. Luna cautiously wrapped her wing around him, almost physically restraining him as he began to lean forwards. She shot a glance at Trixie, which was received with confusion. The princess tipped her head towards the wolves, looking between the showmare and the canines erratically.

“Trixie is not a mind reader!” the showmare wailed.

Luna sighed and rolled her entire head in exasperation. “Perhaps a bolt of lightning or some other projectile might distract our opponents,” said Luna, loudly, and pointedly. “It would certainly be easier to deal with them, if only there were some way we could scatter their ranks.”

The wolves snapped loudly, one or two paused and cocked their heads at Luna. It was as though they understood, and they began to prowl closer. Trixie's lips formed a small 'o' and she began to charge her horn, fixing a stern glare on the approaching canines. Mwali tensed again, and this time Luna mirrored him, signaling silently to Joe as well. The tingling sensation in her appendage turned to a burning, Trixie lowered her horn at the lead wolf and fired.

A backlash of heat washed over her face and tickled at the hairs of her neck. A sphere of swirling orange jumped lazily off her horn and smashed into the canine like a water balloon. The creature's eyes widened and it yelped in fear and pain as a wash of flames painted its coat red and its fur fell off in smoldering clumps. The fire began inching towards the other wolves and spread as though the floor was coated in oil in the direction of each opponent. The wolves ceased their circling and some collided in a heap of matted greasy fur in their attempts to escape the Creeping Flame spell.

“Now!” cried Luna, diving into the fray once more.

Just like that they were all on the offensive. The wolves were in such a panic they couldn't reassemble and resume their tactics, Luna pinned two of them together and dealt critical blows that rent their sides open. Donut Joe hacked at one's head, very nearly severing its neck entirely. Trixie let fly more magic, arcs of lightning, bolts of amethyst that disoriented or blasted aside the oncoming mass of howling creatures.

When the wolves began to counterattack Luna wasn't there to defend. The princess had been slowed considerably by the attacks from before, and she had landed herself in the thick of battle alongside Donut Joe. The wolves came at Trixie as if they'd found a buffet, and Mwali was her last vanguard. The zebra stabbed at one, kicked another, and peppered his attacks with powerful illusions that left the wolves chasing their own tails or rolling helplessly on their backs.

“Trixie-” Topstitch's cry was cut short. The wolf pinning him to the floor put its full massive weight on his chest, making it difficult to breath. Claws thicker than a dictionary punched through the first layer of his armor and threatened to go further.

A bolt of lightning hit the snarling creature in the flank. It yelped wildly and lowered its head, resting its muzzle on the ground. Topstitch took the opportunity, twisting his neck and burying the throwing knife in his teeth within the wolf's side. Fresh warm blood flecked the unicorn's face, he could taste the copper. It felt like waking up from a dream, he realized what he'd just done as the wolf's full weight fell on him. Topstitch could feel the beast's great heart, its beat slowly coming to a stop. His head fell back to the stone, and he stared blankly at the ceiling, his jaw agape in horror.

“Noble seamster!” bellowed Luna. A moment later her midnight coat was in view as she knocked the dead wolf off of Topstitch. She offered him a hoof even as she spat out her sword to inspect that he was alright.

“F-fine,” he stammered, getting back to his feet. He saw Trixie watching him, a modicum of concern creeping over the fierce glaze that had taken over her face. It wasn't like her usual competitive stare, it was something mean.

Luna chewed her lip. “You look unwell, do not persist if you are unable. I will cover your retreat.”

Princess Luna, patron saint of the night. Protector of pony kind. Here she was, not a princess of an idyllic society, but a goddess of war. Topstitch couldn't answer her, nor even move as he stared at her coat, stained and speckled with drying blood. Her sword lay forgotten, but it was painted just the same by the colors of combat. Elegant, beautiful, kind Luna. Was this really the same socially awkward mare he'd met in Socks' foyer?

He never got to ask. Luna was abruptly stolen from his vision by a gray mass slamming into her from the side. The princess shouted and grunted, striking the wolf about the head and sides as it pinned her to the ground and broke several links of her chainmail shirt. Instinctively she tried to hit it with magic, but not even sparks fizzled from her horn. As the wolf's hot breath beat down on her cheeks she looked frantically at her sword, laying mere feet away at Topstitch's hooves.

Trixie looked around at the sound of the princess's yells, but found herself face to face with another adversary. The showmare yelped and fired off a bolt of lightning down the wolf's throat, prompting a small explosion in her own face. It blinded her, and tossed her backwards. The world was a buzzing daze of colors as a striped figure delivered a harrowing kick to another wolf which had come to pick her off.

“I got it,” shouted Joe over the combat. He vaulted Trixie's prone form and made a beeline for the pinned princess and the stunned Topstitch.

Joe hit the wolf like a battering ram. It rolled off Luna's form and fought to regain its composure nearby. The alicorn heaved deep breaths as the use of her lungs returned to her and felt her chest, where blood has surfaced on the cloth vest beneath her armor. The confectioner stood over her with a smile that defined knightly demeanor, in spite of his gruff appearance.

“Topstitch,” Luna breathed, panicked. In an instant she rolled over and flexed her wings, preparing her patented acceleration boost as she locked eyes on the wolf that had just been knocked off of her. Without hesitation she snatched the sword from Donut Joe's own teeth and launched herself at the wolf like a missile.

The blade caught the haunches of the wolf, causing its hind-quarters to collapse under its own weight, tail wagging frantically as the confused creature turned about. Luna smashed the side of the wolf's head with her buckler and turned round to kick it across the floor. The princess turned to Joe and lobbed his sword to him before scooping up her own.

Topstitch swallowed a lump in his throat. “Luna, I-”

“I will cover your retreat, noble seamster.” Her stare felt like a brick to his muzzle. “Do not linger here.”

Topstitch's heart was somewhere in his throat as his hooves began moving. He didn't know where his mind was. They carried him across the hall, back to the stairway and the laboratory below it. He slipped momentarily in what he realized had to be blood, but was hardly slowed in his flight. All the while his thoughts repeated, echoed, in his head: coward.

Donut Joe watched him go. “He gonna be okay?” the confectioner asked.

“He is safe for now,” Luna replied. Her eyes lingered on the stairs, a vivid picture of the seamster's terrified face still plain in her mind.

By that time Trixie's head had recovered and she was back up. She and Mwali were fighting off what remained of the wolves, but they were still badly outnumbered. They had become too spread out, and the wolves had begun to regroup. One went for Mwali, dodging his spear in mid-air, it gripped him about the neck with its teeth. The zebra twisted with the wolf's movement so that it would not tear out his throat. With Mwali preoccupied the others closed in, deftly avoiding Trixie's rain of magical attacks.

The wolf on Mwali's neck landed beside him, it growled through a mouthful of hair and flesh. He took the opportunity to hit it, sharply, in the ribs. The wolf yelped, its grip loosening only marginally as Mwali pulled back and came free, but not without the wolf's teeth raking thing bloody grooves across his skin. Fresh blood tinted his fur around the wounds as he gasped and stumbled away from the canine. The wolf snarled and prepared to pounce again when a long nicked blade punched through its side and into its heart.

Trying to be everywhere at once was taking its toll on Luna. The princess breathed heavily as she left her sword to momentarily hang beside her while she stretched her jaw. She surveyed the battle, saw Joe take over where Mwali had faltered and wildly beat off the wolves which had come close to Trixie. The confectioner was far from a practiced warrior, but he fought with spirit. They were winning, if only just, but the frown that Luna wore would have suggested otherwise.

Mwali caught her gaze and noticed her fatigue. He closed his eyes briefly and allowed himself a moment to breathe before he leveled his gaze at the tired royal again. “Fight on, princess,” he breathed. “The day is not yet won.”

Luna closed her eyes as well. “There is no victory where there is death,” she replied solemnly. The princess craned her neck to retrieve her sword and flexed her wings as she prepared to re-enter the fight.

Trixie had nearly exhausted herself fending off the wolves. There were only a few left, but they were big ones, wolves which had already taken many hits from her magic or the swords of her allies. At a guess, Trixie called them mini-bosses. Hulking monsters that made the others look like pups, and only grew all the more terrifying as they persisted in spite of the bloody gashes marring their hides. One still smoldered from a fire spell as it reared down on Joe, its teeth locked against his blade, forcing the stallion back as easily as pushing a cart.

The wolf lashed out with its paws, scoring wounds on Joe's muzzle. He fell back, only to be caught by another monster and unceremoniously thrown to the ground. Trixie shot the second one with a bolt of lightning but she was quickly distracted by a third wolf coming at her from the side. The showmare gave a squeak of surprise and reared up, attempting to pivot so she could turn around, instead she punched the wolf in the jaw. The world soon became a whirling mass of colors as the wolf collided with her and they tumbled together in a mass of fur and cape into the nearby wall.

“See to her aid, I will assist the confectioner.” Luna swept past Mwali in a gust of wind. There was already another wolf on her tail, quite literally nipping at the ethereal mass of 'fur'.

Donut Joe was struggling to get his bearing again. His sword had been lost somewhere and there was another furry customer standing before him, ready to attack. Its tail swished lazily through the air like a retriever who'd just brought back its master's Frisbee. It barked at him, almost inquisitively. Joe stretched his aching neck and cocked his head at this behavior. The wolf continued to stare, growling briefly before barking again.

“I don't speak much dog,” Joe replied, keeping his eyes on the wolf as he inched slowly towards his lost sword.

It barked again, lunging forwards as Joe went to grab the weapon. At a blow from his hoof the sword spun and skittered within his reach, he snapped it up and drove it into the wolf's shoulder as it came near. The beast's head missed his own by inches, and he could hear its breath in his ear as it twitched and emitted a low whine. It pulled its head back and exposed its jaws, preparing to attack again. With no space between them he couldn't get his sword out of its arm.

The wolf lunged, and Luna arrived in the nick of time. The princess came in at breakneck speed and twisted at the last moment, bucking the wolf with her hind legs and sending it careening into one of the pillars jutting from the wall. It cried out for help, a call that was answered by the wolf already behind the princess. As she spun around and slowed from hitting its companion the wolf jumped, claws outspread to wrap around her and drag her to her death. Luna planted her feet firmly and swung her sword around to her front. The wolf was already in the air, it had no chance of avoiding her.

The noise was sickening. The impact was painful. Luna slid back as the wolf speared its full weight upon her sword. Its paws flailed just above the floor, it moaned balefully as it struggled to get free of the metal embedded in its chest. Luna was just tall enough that she could see directly into its eyes, long enough to see the milky white give way to normal blue eyes, almost those of a pony. She watched fear and pain flash in its expression. The wolf opened its mouth again, to let out its heartbreaking cry, and Luna wrenched her sword towards its heart, silencing it for good.

The princess took a deep, shaky breath. The wolf's eyes were blank once more. She couldn't tell if she'd imagined it, but what she saw lingered with her.

“Sheez, you're some sort of super hero,” Joe's voice made her jump and look back down at the stallion as he admired her work.

A low growl behind them reminded her that there was still another predator in their midst. Luna bit gently on the sword protruding from the corpse before her and gave it a tug. At first it refused to come out, forcing her to go so far as to brace a hoof against its chest. She pulled again and slid the blade free at an agonizing pace as she listened to the wounded dog's limping footsteps.

Trixie was recovering from her daze a second time. Something was hitting her repeatedly, her cheeks already stung from the first two blows. It hadn't occurred to her that one could become so dizzy from battle. As the red room around her began to take its natural shape again she made out a stripey hoof being drawn back again, and the incoherent mumbles of its owner.

“What do you think you're doing!” Trixie yelled, pushing away his hoof and repeatedly slapping the air just in front of his chest. “Are you out of your pony mind? What would possess you to strike The Great and Powerful Trixie?”

Mwali blinked dully, caught with his tongue in his throat. “I- you- I didn't mean to-”

Trixie forced herself back up, wavering like a drunk on her unsteady hooves. She pointed an accusing hoof at a spot to Mwali's left. “This is being added to a long list of debts you owe Trixie, you will be my servant until the end of time if you don't find a way to limit your stupidity. Don't forget you still need Trixie to get out of here!”

The zebra simpered anxiously as he considered slapping her again. As much as he hated to admit it she was right, Trixie was still his best way out of the game if things didn't go as planned. He bowed his head and masked his low growl by clearing his throat instead. “Of course, consider my apology, Miss Trixie.”

The unicorn heaved a sigh and stared at the ground. Her gaze lingered a little too long as she felt she might be sick. “Trixie forgives you this once.”

Mwali rolled his eyes and turned away.

Beside Luna and Joe were two slain wolves. Mwali had dispatched the one entangled with Trixie what felt like ages ago. Only one beast remained, awkwardly trapped between the two groups of battered and bloodied combatants. Its gaze swapped between them like a metronome that had lost its pace and its growl was a continuous sound. It was backing away from them, back towards the staircase at the exit end of the hallway.

Trixie looked between Mwali and Luna, the two bloodstained warriors who had dominated the battlefield. Neither one made a move, though they stared at the beast with an icy intent that could have killed it on the spot. It was as though they were all frozen in time, and only Trixie and Joe had realized it as they shared their confusion in a glance.

“Yield, mourn for your brothers, but do not force me to end your life.” Luna's tone was hard, but her expression faltered. Liquid had pooled at the corner of her eye, and she was finding it difficult to hold the wolf's stare.

To their surprise it didn't run, but it didn't attack either. It cried out, one long lingering howl. It looked around, eying each of its fallen pack-mates. The wolf took a step backwards and raised its head again, howling once more, there was something almost desperate in its voice. It didn't sound worried, or confused, it sounded lonely. The last echoes died out with no reply. The wolf didn't waste any time, it spared them one last glance before it turned its tail to them and fled. It scrabbled through one of the alcoves in the wall, and it was gone.

The sound of metal rang through the hall. Luna's sword dropped at her hooves and the mare looked skyward, resembling a wolf herself after she carefully folded her wings at her sides. The princess collapsed to the ground, her eyes closed as her head came to rest between her hooves.

“We did it,” Trixie called out, punctuating her enthusiasm with a small jump.

“Huzzah,” was the princess's dry retort.

Trixie scoffed and turned to Mwali, “What's eaten her apples? As my servant, I command you to rejoice with Trixie.” The unicorn raised a hoof to the zebra with regal poise. Mwali returned it with a dull clop and smirked at the magician.

“Time to loot?” the zebra asked.

The unicorn stalked towards the wolf which had knocked her over. Its body lay against the wall in an upright position, a deep gouge in its chest. Trixie experimentally poked at the beast, as if gold coins would spring from its withers. Instead she spotted something on its hip, indistinguishable beneath the dirt, blood, and filth that stained its fur, but it looked like an image. Trixie's face felt cold and she immediately retracted the hoof and began to hum suspiciously loud.

“Where's Topstitch?” she asked, barely restraining the highness in her voice.

Mwali looked around, but didn't see the seamster anywhere. The zebra's eyes fell on Donut Joe, who tilted his head towards the laboratory where Topstitch had fled. He looked back towards Trixie but found her spot vacant. A silvery tail slipped out of sight at the top of the stairs.

The showmare took the stairs two at a time. She nearly fell once and nearly lost her hat twice, it sat crookedly atop her head as she jostled it about. Trixie was a pony on a mission, and the goal of that mission was to find Topstitch and inquire as to why he'd missed her devastating victory in the hallway.

Trixie descended into the lab with lungs full of air, preparing to release a tirade on the seamster. What she saw made her pause and think better of it, a rare occurrence in her life. Topstitch was slumped over one of the tables, surrounded by pieces of parchment folded into strange shapes. At first Trixie thought he was doing origami, but she realized they were just paper planes. He'd already made a dozen of them. A cloaked figure sat beside him, patting the stallion gently on the shoulder, it could only be Knee Socks.

The scene was eerily similar to one Trixie remembered from their childhood. Hearts & Hooves Day could be the worst. Only that time Trixie had been the one patting – or incessantly poking – the wounded seamster's shoulder.

She let loose on him nonetheless. “Topstitch, Trixie demands you explain why you weren't paying witness to her astounding power.”

Socks turned around first, a brilliant grin on his face. It was sickening to the showmare. “Trixie! Just the mare we need, Old 'Stitch is a little bit in the dumps,” he said, his voice patronizing to the fullest extent.

Topstitch turned his head just far enough to glare with one eye at the haberdasher. “I'm not 'in the dumps',” he insisted.

“Then why weren't you watching?” Trixie whined, “I single-handedly defeated almost a dozen bloodthirsty wolves.”

Socks pursed his lips at her, but made no comment. The mare puffed out her chest defiantly, daring the all-knowing game-master to challenge her claims.

The seamster filled his cheeks with air and expelled it as he looked up at the ceiling. It wasn't like he'd expected Trixie to understand, but he felt like an idiot having to explain it. “We killed them,” he said.

Trixie stared at him dully. “We? It was Trixie who defeated them. You weren't even there!”

That brought a painful twang to Topstitch's heartstrings. The seamster winced as he continued to focus on the ceiling. “I know, and I'm sorry. I just... I couldn't watch that, not for all the bits in Equestria.”

It made sense to her, truly, it did. Trixie had never given other ponies much reason to believe it, but she empathized surprisingly well. As a pony who spent most of her days alone, on a stage, wearing her show facade, it was difficult for her to level with other ponies emotionally, even the one she'd known for most of her life. She was trying to help in the only way she knew how, mainly by being a distraction.

“What about being Trixie's number one fan? Performers thrive on the energy of the audience, what if Trixie can't win without your adoring cheers?”

The seamster tapped his hoof on the table beside him irritably. “I'm supposed to cheer as you lay waste to lives?”

“It's not even real-”

“No, no! It isn't real, but the memories will be,” Topstitch's gaze fell upon his oldest friend, a mare whose face he could paint from memory, yet he barely even knew her anymore. “Long after this is over, we're still going to have these memories. What if they get worse?”

Trixie groaned and huffed. It wasn't enough to roll her eyes. She couldn't pretend that it didn't bother her, all the fighting, but being a spellcaster had it's advantages. Trixie's contribution had been from a distance, impersonal, if it had been different she wasn't sure she could have seen the fight through either. “We're almost done,” she insisted. “After we beat the last challenge we go home, and then you'll be far too busy designing Trixie's new costume to think about this nut job’s idea of a game.”

“Hey!” Socks exclaimed, “I thought I was going to be designing your costume, this experience has given me amazing inspiration for it too.”

She shot him a stare full of doubt. “Trixie wouldn't trust you to pick up her mail after this mess.”

Topstitch intervened before the haberdasher could retort, “Look, I'm concerned. I don't want any of us living with guilt over our heads. Some of us have already seen too much of that.”

“For the last time, Trixie didn't mean to catch your tail on fire and I don't feel guilty!”

The table gave an audible thump as Topstitch turned round and smashed his muzzle into it. Several paper airplanes took flight and lazily zoomed away from his head. Socks nickered softly beside him.

Before the small planes could touch the ground Trixie snagged them in her telekinetic grip. She watched them fly up to eye level and bank around her own hat on some invisible wind before pointing their tips back at their maker. Like a squadron of kamikaze fighters they floated through the air and one-by-one poked the seamster in the side of the head before falling into a stack by his cheek.

“You have to give her something for her efforts,” Socks mused, leaning towards his friend.

Topstitch snorted. “Anything you give her goes straight to her head.”

The haberdasher chuckled, “Either way, you can't keep moping here. You've got a dungeon to finish.”

“For once Trixie agrees with you.”

The seamster wore an expression of deep thought. Trixie watched him expectantly, already halfway facing the staircase so they could leave. Eventually Topstitch sighed and said, “I want to be done with this just as much as any of you, just not if it costs us our morals.”

There was a brief silence between them. Socks regarded Trixie curiously as the corners of her lips curled as if she was about to throw up. When her lips parted a laugh escaped them that would've sounded more at home coming from a goose than a pony. The unicorn shook her head softly as more chuckles brought a tear to her eye. “Topstitch,” she said, “Topstitch, Trixie's entire childhood was based on throwing morals away. What about when Trixie cheated at cards to buy you fabric, or the time that I kicked Starry Sleight in the flank for making fun of Trixie's disappearing cat trick. You didn't safeguard Trixie's morals when she rigged the Academy for Gifted Unicorns' apprentice magician competition by weakening the stage floorboards!”

The others watched with blank faces as the mare listed off more, increasingly amoral, actions. Socks had already suspected that she wasn't above foul play, but the scope of her transgressions was a shock nonetheless. “You didn't poison my drink or anything, did you?” he asked. “I'd be a little upset if I get back to my body to find myself dying so that you could win the game.”

Trixie glared at him before turning her attention back to Topstitch. She reiterated, “Trixie throws her morals away, and you always cheer for Trixie. That's the system.”

The seamster could only shake his head at her outburst. He couldn't even remember half of the things Trixie had done for the sake of her act, and he didn't recall supporting the other half. While he'd always put in diligent work, she'd found the shortcuts and extreme measures to get things done without it. In a way that's what he was hoping to accomplish, to bend the rules and escape the game before anymore harm could come their way, for his own sake as much as any of the others.

For once it felt like he might actually be the one who had it right. Just like trying to use his fractured horn earlier, taking a leaf from Trixie's book of rash thought hadn't gotten him anywhere. It was a strangely comforting thought, there were no shortcuts, no way to 'Trixie' an escape. They just had to do their best and see it through to the end, and there he was, holding them all back.

Trixie sensed the change in his demeanor. She flicked her tail at him and turned away, putting her hoof on the first step. “Now hurry up, Trixie wants to see what treasure Socks put in the next room.”

When Topstitch came around the three ponies climbed the stairs together and found their companions standing at the other end of the scene of the battle. The eerie red light from before had been replaced by that of another torch. They stood at the foot of the next staircase, the steps were gargantuan, each one deep enough to be its own landing. They looked like ordinary stone steps, but there was a large golden band on the front of every third step.

“I saw somethin' like this in a Daring Do movie,” said Joe. The stallion scratched his chin as he examined the steps. “When she stepped on the wrong one fire shot out everywhere, it was intense.”

The confectioner looked around his company, hoping for some confirmation. The others weren't particularly encouraged by his statement. Neither the princess nor the foreigner had seen the film. They were too busy picturing themselves engulfed in flames to ask what happened next, or how Daring Do survived the trap. As Joe waited for them to reply he caught sight of Topstitch and Trixie, with Knee Socks trailing along behind.

“Hey ponies, welcome back,” said Joe, waving his hoof.

Luna turned around, her eyes instantly locked on Topstitch. He returned her gaze, unblinking. As best she could tell he had made a full recovery, but she watched him for a few moments longer as he and his group came to join them.

“We are glad to see you well, Topstitch,” said the princess, smiling at last.

The seamster nodded in thanks. “I'm told I missed an iconic battle,” he replied. Luna detected a catch in his delivery, which made her wonder exactly how well he was.

The princess's first instinct was to ask him directly. If she demanded information he could hardly refuse. However, she doubted he would appreciate the spectacle. It was obvious that he was already anxious about having abandoned them, and even more-so about the inquisitive stares from the others. She resigned to speak with him about it later, in private.

“At least one of us won't have to worry,” said Mwali. The zebra brought their attentions back to the problem before them, and he pointed at Luna's wings.

Luna fluttered the appendages experimentally, then winced as she moved the one which had be scratched in battle. The stairs were wide enough for her to fly up, assuming she could handle the strain. That still left four other ponies with no way past the trapped steps, if they were traps at all. “I fear Trixie is the only one light enough for me to lift,” she said, “and splitting up does not seem wise.”

“How did Daring Do get across the trap?” asked the showmare.

“Easy peasy,” replied Joe, “she didn't step on the wrong ones.”

Trixie smacked a hoof to her face and shook her head.

Without warning Mwali vaulted the first step. Topstitch shouted, Luna unfurled her wings to pursue him as he climbed onto the second landing. The zebra turned about, facing the wall, and took a brief pause to focus his energy and reevaluate his position. When satisfied he took off, he sprinted from one side of the stair to the other, and as he neared the opposite wall he angled himself and jumped towards it. The ponies below watched in awe as his hooves scraped the surface, dislodging stone and dust as he hung there as if frozen in time. Mwali kicked off with all of his might, tucked in his legs, and skidded over the lip of the fourth step.

His audience watched in open-mouthed astonishment as he stood and dusted himself off. Luna's wings were still extended, forgotten in mid-flap as she made sense of what she just watched. Mwali made the acrobatics look like it was nothing.

“He's a freakin' ninja!” Joe exclaimed.

Trixie stamped on the floor, not to be outdone. “Anything he can do, Trixie can do better!” the showmare proclaimed. She hopped the first two steps with ease and turned to the wall to replicate the zebra's trick. Just as she went to try it a pair of teeth clamped down on the edge of her cape. Like elastic it stretched out and then snapped back, depositing her at the bottom of the stairs again with a bruised rump.

Topstitch released her cape and sighed, “Do you have an acrobatic bone in your body?”

The showmare growled at him. She took a deep breath and recited as if from a textbook, “Trixie took the 'Amazing Action' feat, once per day Trixie may perform a skill check, which she has zero ranks in, flawlessly.” Trixie stuck her nose up at him and mounted the stairs again. She didn't get very far before her cape held her up again.

“Do you even know how feats work, now that we're inside the game?”

“Trixie will figure it out!” The unicorn yanked helplessly at the hem of her cape, now trapped beneath her colleague's hoof.

“I kinda wanted to see her try,” said Joe bashfully.

Whilst she struggled Luna wrapped her forelegs around Trixie's middle and gave two experimental beats of her wings. The azure mare squirmed against her would-be savior, making it difficult to gain any lift. Trixie clamped her hooves over her hat and screamed to be released as her front half lifted off the ground and her cape was buffeted by the winds from Luna's exaggeratedly slow takeoff.

“Strength check,” Socks muttered under his breath.

A pair of dice began to roll somewhere, but Luna ignored it. The princess tightened her grip on Trixie and beat her wings until they were nearly a blur. As soon as Trixie's rear hooves were off the ground she thrashed her lower half violently to one side. Luna grunted in alarm, her trajectory changing as she nearly crashed them both into the very step they were trying to avoid. Becoming impatient, when she felt Trixie begin to squirm again she jammed her hoof against the showmare's neck.

Without any oxygen Trixie was more concerned with staying alive than escaping. As she hung limply and gasped for air Luna was able to gain altitude. Acting quickly, the princess boosted her captive into the air just far enough to clear the steps. On the other side Luna dropped her cargo unceremoniously. Trixie fell to the stone, gasping for breath, her hoof stretched out to some unseen phantom as she clung to life. Luna snorted and pushed the showmare's hat down over her eyes, much to Trixie's displeasure.

“Hurray,” said Joe, “how about the rest of us?”

Topstitch shrugged. “You stretch across, I'll walk over you.”

“Hey, now that's a tempting idea!” Joe replied, feigning excitement.

Socks made a noise of disgust. The others turned, distinctly aware that they'd done something wrong. The haberdasher crossed his forelegs and shook his head at them. He opened his mouth, closed it, gestured angrily and opened it again, then snapped it shut. Two sides of him were battling for control, the desire to critique their game skills and the desire to give nothing away.

“Something to say?” asked Topstitch. The haberdasher shook his head at a rapid pace.

“Helpful guy,” commented Joe.

Without any other ideas, the confectioner decided to take his chances with parkour. He tossed his sack of loot to the other side, along with his sword, and prepared the same way Mwali had. Joe was much less sure in his footing, and even less confident of his weight, but he was willing to give it a shot. Luna hovered nearby, ready to catch him as he kicked off at a gallop towards the wall. The stallion jumped clumsily and tried to twist in the air the same way Mwali had. As his hooves struck the wall instead of clinging he kept on running, and traction failed him.

“Help, help!” Joe yelled as he scrambled and stretched himself out. He kicked off the wall in a last ditch effort, shoving with all the strength his legs had. As he saw the stair coming straight for his face he lifted his head, narrowly avoiding hitting the stone with his jaw.

Somewhere behind him Trixie scoffed, “Amateur at best.”

Topstitch took a deep breath, his heart racing as Joe struggled to get up and offered him a wave. Suddenly the jump looked a lot harder than when Mwali had done it. The seamster briefly wished that he'd elected to go first instead of Joe. He clambered up the steps and got into position, ignoring as Knee Socks rolled his eyes and turned away, muttering to himself. Topstitch bolted, pounced, and rebounded off the wall. Unlike Joe, he didn't try to run, he just focused all of his intent on defying gravity for those few crucial milliseconds before kicking off, and stumbling to a landing on the other side.

“Bravo!” Luna cheered. She and Joe stomped their hooves in applause as Trixie ho-hummed and Mwali looked to the next striped step.

Topstitch followed the zebra's gaze as he caught his breath. The stairs went on quite a ways, the top of them wasn't even visible. And every third step bore the same golden stripe. Suddenly he was wishing that they'd heeded Socks' bad mood and thought up a different way to get across.

Luna played a crucial role in the exercise to come. Whereas Trixie was the only pony she could carry across she could still lend her hoof to the others. With good enough timing she was able to catch the others as they sprang from the wall, offering just enough lift to get them across safely. The cost was obvious, however, and soon all the ponies were nearly dragging themselves up the stairs to the next obstacle, except for Trixie. Luna was having trouble flying at all, let alone carrying the others.

“We're almost there,” Mwali encouraged. The zebra had already passed the gold-plated step above them. His stamina seemed almost endless, and he executed the wall jump flawlessly every time. Either their in-game skills meant less than initially suspected, or Mwali's acrobatic skill was through the roof.

The remaining four stretched their legs experimentally. Joe and Topstitch caught each other's shaky glances. Both stallions were spent. Luna took the mantle, opting to rest her wings and try the jump Mwali's way. As she jumped she still gave a small flap, and glided gracefully to the zebra's side.

Finally Trixie had a chance to prove herself just as capable. Even if she failed she still had her feat. The showmare pranced to her starting point, her tail swishing gently this way and that. She stuck her nose to the ceiling and cracked her neck noisily before lowering into a crouch in preparation. She aimed straight at the scuff Mwali's hoof had left behind on the wall, let out a laugh of contempt, and darted towards the wall. The showmare jumped, form perfect, and twisted to touch the surface. She felt the wall below, and strangely beside her, and went to kick off... when her leg cramped.

The showmare's face contorted in agony. She shouted, “Horseapples!” as she lost traction and kicked out. She spiraled through the air and came to a landing upside down, skidding across the smooth step beside Mwali.

Luna bent down to inspect her, prodding Trixie's flank. The unicorn didn't even move. She covered her face with her hooves and lay there, wanting to die. On the steps below Donut Joe was snickering and Topstitch rolled his eyes, releasing the anxious breath he'd been holding. She could hear Mwali's barely suppressed laughter somewhere to her left as well.

“I thought that was supposed to be flawless,” Topstitch called over angrily.

Socks snorted, “She didn't use her feat, she got it on the first skill check... barely.”

After getting over their stupidity Socks had actually enjoyed watching them hopscotch their way up the staircase. As the game-master he didn't share in their problems, simply teleporting himself up each set of stairs and watching as they wore themselves out. How it hadn't occurred to them that there was an easier way, he didn't know. Considering their risky plan of action he was surprised that no one had triggered – Nevermind!

The haberdasher's thoughts were wiped out as a gout of fire sprung up inches from his muzzle. He watched Topstitch's pupils turn to pinpricks as the stallion fell out of the air. The seamster couldn't scream, his expression was one of pure surprise. Trixie shrieked and threw herself after him, swallowed by fire before anypony could react. Somewhere Topstitch found the presence of mind to swear as a solid body hit him about the midsection, hooves wrapped around his barrel, and both ponies disappeared from sight.

The fire roared gleefully. Luna was screaming, Mwali held her back and attempted to yell common sense into her ear. Joe barked across, throwing his own voice into the cacophony as he desperately tried to make sense of what had happened. All at once the sound of the flames dissipated into silence and the hallway was filled with one awful noise, a dissonant cackle. The others looked incredulously to the haberdasher as he trembled. The noise came from his own lips and he kneaded the ground happily as he threw back his head to the heavens. The sound of his wretched mirth enveloped their senses, nurturing a deep sickness and a terrible fear welling within their hearts.

Old Habits, New Problems

View Online

Chapter Nine: Old Habits, New Problems

Proofread by my good, human, friend, Goldbrain. If anything's broken knock down *his* door about it.

The seamster fell through open space, resigned to his imminent demise. It hadn't occurred to him that there was no more fire, or that his body was actually quite cold. There was only darkness, and a sudden stop as he hit the floor with an audible whump. Motes of dust took to the air around him, but he was only dimly aware that he could actually see them, which meant the room wasn't as pitch-black as first suspected. Just as Topstitch lifted his head to get a better view a noisy azure creature fell from above, supplanting his spine with her hooves as she drove her full weight into him like a demented pony-shaped javelin.

The stallion reared his head back, whinnying in pain, only to headbutt the mare who had landed on his back and bring about a migraine in the process. Whether unconscious or just stunned, Trixie slumped off of him to the side and the two ponies separated, both groaning in pain. Topstitch immediately felt something sharp poking him in the sides, and didn't want to think about what they might have landed in.

Trixie wobbled to her feet like a drunkard, her eyes spinning in their sockets. A quick shake of the head and a dusting of her hat and she was prepared to face whatever eldritch horrors the afterlife had in store. The unicorn was already preparing a light spell when she noticed what Topstitch had discovered before her, there was already light around them. If anything, that just confirmed her suspicions.

“If this is the afterlife, Trixie would like to file a complaint,” she stated, sitting down and immediately receiving a sharp poke to the rear.

“I don't think we're dead,” grumbled Topstitch, viewing their surroundings from his new place on the floor.

They were still surrounded by the hewn stone that made up the rest of the dungeon. Immediately within his field of view was a set of rusty iron bars, warped and bent. A small number of fractured gray bones littered the floor nearby, solving the mystery of what had been stabbing them. Beyond the bars he could see a corridor lined with cells like their own and lit up by hundreds of twinkling gems embedded in the rock of the walls and ceiling.

It sounded just like the haberdasher to create a deadly trap only to drop them into another section of the dungeon. As Trixie looked at her friend, and basked in the realization that they were neither dead nor dying, her eyes watered inexplicably. She was beginning to believe that she'd picked up some sort of allergy to alternate reality. All this sniffling and tearing up definitely wasn't her natural healthy state. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours she had thought she was going to die.

The showmare swallowed her emotions and scoffed, her voice echoed off the walls, “This dump is a palace compared to some of the venues Trixie has graced.”

Topstitch snorted. He forced himself into an upright position. “You enjoy it though, despite the bad times.” It was hard to tell whether he was asking her or telling her.

“Now isn't really the time to discuss Trixie's career. We should try to find out where we are.”

The seamster looked at her as though she'd just grown wings. A Trixie who didn't want to talk about her astounding life? Now that was disconcerting. “You're the expert, what do you make of it?”

Trixie tipped her hat back and looked around. “It's some stupid secret room the hatter made up. Probably to flesh out his story,” she didn't sound impressed. “As far as prisons go, Trixie suspects this one has seen better days.”

That much was obvious. The door of their cell was practically non-existent, lolling open on demolished hinges. The dust in the air was so heavy that it looked like a silver mist against the pale white light given off by the walls. Every other cell was equally ruined and, thankfully, equally empty as their own. Long chains sat coiled in the corners, attached to manacles that had long since stopped performing their duties.

Topstitch was still looking at her. The unicorn frowned, “I don't know what you expect, it's not like I'm a detective. Knowing Socks' pandering style of level design, there's probably only one way out of here, and it probably leads directly to the others.” It was difficult to keep the disappointment out of her voice, in spite of the dire experience they'd just been through.

“There's the legendary sense of direction,” Topstitch quipped. Trixie stuck out her tongue and took the lead.

Their shadows cast themselves upon the walls like gloomy dancers as the two ponies exited their prison. The stone beneath their hooves was as cold as walking through a river just before it froze over, and the air was just as bad. Judging by the bones in each of the dozen cells they hadn't been home to any herbivores, unless the prison had seen a lot of business in its heyday. It sparked a memory of what Trixie had realized after fighting the wolves, and had been about to tell Topstitch.

Before she could say anything of her concerns the seamster interrupted her thoughts. “What do you make of these stones?” he asked, tapping one of the rocks in the wall.

She didn't even need to look to know what he meant, but she did anyways to pry her eyes off of the cells. Trixie stopped and stared at the stretch of wall in silence, her nose very nearly brushing the shiny stone embedded in its face. At a guess they were the same rocks she'd found earlier in the cave, albeit with a pretty serious enchantment to have kept them lit up for such a long time.

“Glowy,” she blurted.

The stallion gave her a frank look. “You're a wealth of insight.”

She shrugged, “Trixie is an entertainer, not a geologist.”

“It reminds me of moonlight.”

That was what Trixie was afraid of.

“Could you do something similar for your costume?”

Taken aback by his suggestion, Trixie looked herself over. The archmage regalia was already plenty decorative, and she wasn't about to spend her time chipping rocks out of a wall just to provide an extra accent. Before she could say anything she heard her companion put out an exasperated puff of air.

“Your real costume,” Topstitch deadpanned.

“Oh!”

It would definitely draw the eye, and she'd heard that gemstones were quite popular in the fashion world. Not that Trixie kept up with that sort of thing. Somehow she doubted she would have any luck getting it back to the real world though.

The more near-death situations she found herself in, the more she was having trouble accepting that this wasn't the real world. Each time she tried to distract herself by pretending it was still just a game it worked a little bit less. Even if Socks was right and they would all be okay, she still didn't want to die and have to test out his theory. Trixie had no qualms with gambling, but not when there was a serious chance of losing.

Just how far did this world go anyways? Trixie had made up an extensive backstory for her character, Countess Lulamoon, so she had to have relatives, allies, and even enemies floating around somewhere. If she turned tail and ran east would she eventually find a coast? Beyond it would be the island, and the mansion upon it where her fictional counterpart had grown up. If she went there, would they know her and accept her as if she had been there all her life? It almost sounded like a good deal when one put it that way. Trixie could be a respected elite, with vast political sway, and the freedom to do anything that she pleased.

“Trixie...”

The voice seemed somehow far away, though the only pony it could have come from was just beside her. Trixie's eyes hurt, but she couldn't bring herself to close them. Why was Topstitch being so quiet?

“...worrying me...”

Trixie's eyes were glazed and vacant. She showed no signs of hearing him at all as she ogled the crystal before her. It wasn't like she was interested in it anymore, it was like she was looking straight past it, and beyond the physical realm itself. Whatever it was Topstitch didn't like it, and he shook her violently as the look persisted.

The mare blinked rapidly, finally tearing her gaze from the wall. Trixie shook her head to clear a buzzing from her mind and looked at Topstitch in affront, “Do you mind? Trixie isn't a bobble-head pony.”

“You've been zoned out for well over a minute, did you even hear me?”

“Trixie has perfect hearing, you haven't said a thing.”

Oh, of course, I must have been imagining it, Topstitch thought, agitation mounting. There was more than enough magic and danger in the real Equestria. To imagine what horrors had been created in the false version of it was somewhat daunting.

“We should make our way out of here,” Topstitch said. “I have a feeling those rocks would have the wrong effect on your audience anyways.”

The seamster had begun to walk away, when he realized the mare was again glued to the wall. She even looked like she was going to drool a little. What Topstitch would have given for a camera in that instant. Instead he turned about and gave a strong shove to Trixie's flank with his hind leg.

Trixie shook her head just as before and scowled at Topstitch as she stopped herself from teetering over. “What is wrong with you? The Great and Powerful Trixie doesn't like to be shoved around like she's in a mosh pit at some backwater music festival.”

Before she could look back at the wall Topstitch steered her away by the neck. What had once been the doorway now looked more like a drawbridge. The bulky hunk of wood lay on the ground, its hinges stuck up in the air with large bolts protruding from them. The surface was scored with dents and gashed as if it had been the target of an overzealous swordspony. They hurried over what remained and left the prison behind in favor of a dark winding stairwell leading upward.

As with anything, Trixie was slow to believe that she'd been reduced to a zombie by the glowing stones. Topstitch began to wonder why he'd even bothered to convince her of it. Even if she did realize what had happened the chances of her admitting she'd fallen prey to it were pretty slim. Seeing as it didn't really matter he decided it was best to let her have her way. Between the two of them she was the only one who could manage a light spell, and she wouldn't do it if she was throwing a fit.

They ascended the stairs without any trouble and eventually came to another busted down door. It appeared that whoever was there last hadn't had much heed for composure. Nonetheless, it led them into a circular room that was in a state of disarray. It was dominated on one side by a sturdy desk of darkly colored wood. Empty shelves hung around the room, their contents were now strewn on the ground as a heap of broken glass and half-items that neither Trixie nor Topstitch could make sense of. Small bookshelves also wound all the way around the base of the walls, but their tomes were likewise emptied onto the floor and their pages scattered.

“I get the hint that whoever worked here hasn't been around for some time,” Topstitch muttered, “but at this point I feel like Socks is just bashing us over the head with it.”

Trixie had to agree, but it had the desired effect. The showmare was itching to know what had become of whoever had used the room, as well as anxious to be gone from the ruins left behind. The search for an exit lay her eyes instead upon an embellished portrait placed high on the wall opposite the desk. The unicorn captured had a pure white coat, but it looked sickly more than majestic. The cloak he wore was the color of the ocean just before nightfall, and its cut was similar to that of Trixie's while his cutie mark, and alchemical circle, was stitched in gold on the back. Upon his gray mane was a tall black hat that looked more like the head of a chess piece, with three tall spires and no brim.

“What a charming feature,” Topstitch commented, pointing out a small alcove across from them. What should have been a door was instead a solid wall of wood, reduced to a mess of splinters and broken wood through which they could see into the next room.

Instead of forging ahead Trixie went towards the desk and tried the drawers. Most of them were locked, others simply stuck. She was beginning to regret not having purchased a lock-picking kit before the game began. In hindsight the money she'd had leftover still had to exist somewhere, if not in a bottomless coin purse on her person. Not that it did much good in the present.

“What are you looking for?” asked Topstitch, coming to join her by the desk.

“Scrolls, gems, hidden pouches of gold, treasure stuff,” she listed nonchalantly. Then she added in a mutter, “clues.”

There was a loud snap as Trixie tugged on a drawer, like a splint breaking in half. It came open abruptly, nearly causing the mare to fall over. As the contents settled the two ponies looked down not on concealed riches, but a plethora of dusty pages. Trixie wasted no time in levitating five at once and skimming them. Once finished with those she grabbed five more, and so on. Mining operations, notes on the lunar quarts, and page after page of experiment notes.

Topstitch carefully read through those Trixie discarded. When he reached up to straighten his reading glasses he met an empty nose instead. He grumbled and made the best of it. There were numerous reports detailing the glowing stones, the enchantments that had been used on them, and most importantly the effects they'd had on ponies. The first and foremost was a loss of physical perception, followed by long-term symptoms like memory loss.

“So they brainwash ponies, and then there's all this animal stuff,” Topstitch changed to another page. Drawings of a number of different species were labeled, some scratched out. All of them were predators, jungle cats, bears, and wolves.

At the bottom of a majority of the pages was a signature and the official seal of Archmage Vibrant Gloom. Upon further inspection his name was etched into the frame of the painting in the office as well. A little more digging and they found writings of a more personal nature, cursing Nightmare Moon herself and speaking of the writer's designs for all of Equestria. It didn't take long to put together that he'd had a considerable fallout with the Nightmare Court that he once sat on.

“Sounds like an enterprising mad scientist,” Topstitch muttered, “but it doesn't look like he's around any longer. At a guess he never got his revenge.”

They'd both dawned on the same conclusion, the one Trixie had drawn after fighting the wolves. Neither one of them was willing to give voice to it, however. Gloom had been using a combination of magic and science to erase ponies' memories and replace them with predatory instincts. Then he'd gone a step further and changed their bodies to match their newly altered minds. In short, Gloom had been creating an army of monster-ponies. Something had gone wrong, the lycanequus escaped, and that was why ponies were going missing in town. After years of hiding in the mountain the wolf-ponies had finally found their way back to civilization.

“Well... Trixie figured it out first,” she stated.

“I tried to design a line of clothing inspired by wolves once,” said Topstitch.

Trixie thought what that might look like. The results made her cringe. “Who lets you come up with your own ideas?”

“Canterlot is sorely lacking in a bad-idea police force. It would've been good actually, if Socks hadn't tried to convince me to make it barbarian couture.”

Images of ponies with jutting brows in puffy wolf-inspired clothing filled Trixie's mind. They paraded about, waving large clubs in their crooked or broken teeth. It didn't seem like the kind of style any sane Canterlot pony would buy into.

Eager to move the subject away from wolves, Trixie summoned up the least corny question she could manage and used it to fill the silence, “How's business?”

Topstitch paused in the process of putting away the papers to consider her question by drilling his eyes into the ceiling. “It's slow,” he finally replied. “I live in the seat of fashion, but I haven't got any regular clients as of right now. There's still always this charity event or that ball to dress up for, though, so I usually find clients there.”

“Huh,” was all Trixie could say. Her expertise in the lives of the Canterlot socialites was minimal. She'd never been to one of those parties in her life. “Those sound... boring.”

The stallion shrugged, “Socks chooses his parties carefully, I tag along. The orchestra is always enjoyable, and I can't say I've attended an art exhibition that I didn't like.”

Trixie filled her cheeks with air as though it would somehow build up and release as something else to say. How did ponies maintain friendships so easily, let alone more than one. It sounded exhausting. They'd grown up in the same world, chasing similar goals, but those goals had led them to very different lives. Trixie had never really considered the disconnect until it was staring her in the face.

“Trixie isn't beneath ruining a rival's career if you need it,” she assured him.

“That shouldn't be necessary,” he chuckled. “I'm happy here, even if I'm not famous or rich.”

The showmare gave a quick nod and turned her thoughts back to matters at hoof. There was plenty of time to figure out how to be a better pen pal when they were back in the real world. With all of Gloom's paperwork safely stored away, and no riches to be found, the ponies reconvened at the exit to the room and carefully made their way through the gap in the wood. It was soon revealed not to be a wall, but a bookcase.

The next room was a library, and the door behind them had once been a concealed passageway. More shelves flanked them on either side, and all of them were covered by a lattice of spiderwebs that were all specked with tiny black arachnids. If the spiders had made it in here as well it was likely that there were more tunnels in the walls, and that was how the wolf-ponies had escaped into the rest of the mountain.

Curiously, the books were sorted by color before title. The result was a solid wall of alternating blocks of color from every end of the spectrum. Several volumes on their left were bright yellow, and near them was another set that were all electric blue. Miraculously it looked like the books had been untouched by the escaping prisoners, and the shelves were ordered as neatly as if they'd just been stocked. The only exception was the books that had come from the shelf they'd just entered through.

“If you were a giant cave-library, where would you keep the scrolls for dangerous spells?” Trixie asked, eyes boggled by their surroundings. Libraries were a gold-mine for lesser-known treasures in adventure games. One pony's reading material was Trixie's 'Chains of Agony' scroll.

“Probably under 'D', in the non-fiction section.”

“Are scrolls sorted by title?”

“Have you ever even been to a library?”

Trixie tapped her chin in thought. “I flipped one upside down once,” she offered, her hoof aloft in a weighing gesture.

“Well, it's the same difference then,” Topstitch replied flatly.

From where they'd entered they could see a balcony and a second floor beyond. That seemed like a good place to get their bearings, and so they set out in search of a staircase. What they found was that the library was a labyrinth of discordantly arranged units that zigzagged back and forth across the cave. It was far from the most efficient way to find a book, but at least there was rarely more than one way to go. By following the left-side wall they eventually made their way to an opening.

There at the base of a wide staircase was a glass display, inside it were three books, each one more immaculate than the one before it. Trixie's nose was squished against it in a matter of seconds, eying the etched ivory trappings of an old tome and the glint of topaz and amethyst embedded in the brown cover of another, as well as the intimidating dragon's maw embossed upon the third. Now there was something that looked valuable.

“You know, none of the loot you find is worth anything,” Topstitch reminded her as her breath fogged the glass. “You may as well be finding paperclips for all the good it'll do once we get out of here.”

“Humor Trixie,” the showmare replied.

Before Topstitch could say anything else he watched as she brought down a hoof and smashed the glass case. She gave a low 'ouch' and the seamster stalked forwards with a dry expression as he watched the azure unicorn suck the blood from her wound. A moment later she'd already recovered and was flipping through one of the gaudy books with all the nonchalance of somepony reading a carriage catalog.

“You could at least pretend you're not trying to call every monster within earshot,” Topstitch sighed as he peeked at the book over Trixie's shoulder.

“Trixie could learn valuable spells from these dusty wastes of precious gemstones.”

“When you learn a spell of caution, let me know.” At least the case hadn't been trapped. Topstitch took that as a good omen.

The showmare turned to him and unabashedly shoved one of the three books beneath his vestments. After jamming the other down his tunic she resigned herself to carrying the third herself. With their loot secured they made their way up the staircase to the second floor. Much to their pleasure they quickly found a door at the end of the landing, only to realize directly after that it was locked. As Topstitch was trying to get a look at the bottom floor for any alternative exits he noticed his light-source moving away.

“Trixie,” he growled. “Important stuff. Trying to get out.”

When she did not respond he turned about and dragged her away from the shelf of scrolls she was perusing, carelessly throwing each of them to the floor moments after finding them. Topstitch clamped his teeth down on her cape and dragged her back to the balcony so that he could see below them in to the mess of bookcases.

“There,” he said, pointing to the opposite end from the staircase. There was another door there, or at least an alcove that looked like one.

“Good, now you go check for traps while Trixie looks for scrolls.” The azure mare gave a short gesture with her hoof to scoot him on his way.

Beyond the use of words to express his impatience the seamster resigned himself to dragging her all the way through the maze again. There was no end to her complaint as he led the way back down the stairs and through the winding corridors, past all the tomes, and doing his best to keep them on the right track. It took far longer than it should have, but they were soon standing before the alcove, and inside of it was... another bookshelf.

“Congratulations,” said Trixie, “You've found books! Can Trixie go now?”

Topstitch moved closer to examine the shelf, the stallion even gave it a hearty push, hoping it would shift or reveal a hidden exit. Meanwhile, Trixie had lost interest and meandered away, skimming the titles of nearby books and only keeping half the mind to look out for any clues. It was obviously some kind of puzzle, that or they just had to find a key. If they were looking for something anyways then she might as well get some other goods out of the experience too.

Topstitch sputtered in malcontent as he turned to leave, but not before something caught his eye. Amidst a section of bright red books he saw one that didn't match, a plum colored spine right in the middle of the set. As best he could remember it was the only book he'd seen out of place in the whole library. He was about to call Trixie again, when he realized there was no point. She'd just commend him on finding more books again. Instead he slipped the tome off the shelf and read the cover, Woodsy Wells' Animal Compendium.

Backtracking to the bookshelf in the alcove, he found an empty slot amongst several other purple books. Without any other keen ideas he slipped the book he'd found into the space. A booming metal click sounded throughout the library. The cave was temporarily bathed in pale blue light as a heavy grinding noise began. Topstitch turned just in time to see the bookshelf behind him sliding across the floor to cover up the corridor Trixie had just went down.

As Trixie stared at a solid wall of wood and literature, on all four sides, she seriously contemplated another fire spell rampage. How dense could a bookcase really be? I bet I could blast straight through it, one spell, she thought precariously. Turning the library into an oven seemed a small price from inside a cage.

“Don't set anything on fire, I've got this under control!”

The showmare went limp and wallowed in her boredom.

So that was the trick. He had to find the books that were out of place and put them back. It was astoundingly juvenile. Not a test of cunning so much as a lot of exercise. Not to be dissuaded, Topstitch browsed the nearby shelves for anything else, but it looked like everything matched up. Then, scanning a shelf of vivid pink titles he noticed one labeled Vol. II mixed up with Vol. IV. Topstitch quickly swapped their placed and waited for something to change.

This time the grinding was further off, though it still echoed through the entire room. Topstitch set off towards it, eyes peeled for more books, and found that practically the entire library had changed. What had once been a T-intersection had become one long hallway, and the exit to the stairway was completely blocked off. An area that hadn't been open before stood out, and within the small corner he found a mustard yellow book laying on the side of the shelf. He immediately recognized the color from when they'd first entered and crossed the labyrinth again to put it away.

“Trixie,” he called out, “if you see any books out of place, put them back where they go. It should unlock the way out.”

As he said it Trixie was in the process of flipping one such book open and shut out of boredom. It had just been laying there on the floor, completely inconspicuous. The showmare sighed laboriously and looked up and around for any empty spaces in her technicolor prison. When she spotted a gap amongst the matching orange novels she slipped her find in the space.

Another click. More grinding. The barrier to Trixie's left suddenly became a path, and she felt some hope. The unicorn followed the bookshelves, looking for an opening, but instead found herself trapped... again. Only her cage was slightly bigger now. She would have to have a word with Socks about creating puzzles that multiple players could interact with.

Beyond the confines of her bookshelf hell Topstitch could be heard dashing to and fro. The sound of his hooves was almost never-ending and with each small pause came the distinguished click and the shifting of more shelves. A few times Trixie was able to move, eventually making it back to the part of the room they'd come in from, but she was still cut off from Topstitch or the exit. On her way down another new opening she spotted a cherry red book slipped in between two white ones. Remembering seeing the red books some ways back she groaned and took it in her teeth, trudging back to the space and returning another tome to its rightful spot.

More grinding, glowing. Topstitch shouted in alarm from somewhere far off, “Wait, wait! You did something wrong, I'm trapped now.”

Trixie snorted derisively. It echoed loudly enough for Topstitch to hear. “You must be joking,” the showmare shouted back, “Trixie would never be dumb enough to trap her allies in a bookshelf maze.”

Fair enough, he probably should have made sure she was with him before starting the venture. A moment later he heard the mare huff and there was another, slightly different, click as the shelf that was pinning him in retracted itself. From there the path to the stairs was opened up again, though that side of the room was incredibly dark with Trixie trapped at the other corner of the library now. The seamster did his best to comb for another book in the darkness.

Once he'd found the tome he needed sitting on one of the steps Topstitch wasted no time in returning to the shelves and activating the next shift. The shelf beside him slid away and another cut off his path to the stairs, where the shelf had been he saw a long empty corridor, and at the end of it Trixie. The mare perched atop her red book like some strange gargoyle, rapping her head upon the shelf nearest her. Upon seeing him she snapped a lazy salute and put her book away for the second time at his prodding. Immediately a path opened between them, forming another three-way intersect.

“If libraries are anything like this, then Trixie is glad she's never been to one,” the mare huffed.

Topstitch had to agree. “It's a genius organizing scheme. Nothing can ever be out of place if the door locks until you put it all back.”

According to Topstitch there were two more purple books missing from the shelf that had started the puzzle. If they could find all three, then hypothetically a new exit would open, or it would unlock the door upstairs. It was a lot of hoofwork, but they gradually made progress. Trixie made sure to stay closer to Topstitch now that she'd finally gotten out of her hole. While she found the exercise boring the seamster was actually getting into it. It wasn't heroic or exciting, but it was busywork, and it was normal. Or at least closer to normal.

Eventually the last book slipped into place and all the shelves seemed to move as one. From the alcove the two ponies watched the library finally rearrange itself into neat little rows with a path all the way down the middle. A noisy clunk came from the second floor, the unmistakably sound of a deadbolt disengaging, while at the same time the bookcase behind them slid out of sight. In its place was no door, but a massive ironbound treasure chest with thick polished bands of metal reinforcing it and ornamental carvings in its face.

“That's a trap,” Topstitch said bluntly.

Trixie gave him a look of disgust. “You didn't even check it.”

Topstitch looked her dead in the eye. “That... is a trap. There are two things in this room that I know to be absolutely certain. Firstly, that is a trap. Secondly- you activated it.”

Before he could even finish his sentence Trixie's hooves were on the lid of the chest. She tossed it backwards and reveled in the golden glow that spilled warmth from its insides. Topstitch tugged at his face with one hoof, looking more and more haggard by the second as Trixie pulled from the chest a sparkling tiara made of some deep black material. At the same time he was aware of an outrageous loudness occurring behind him. The books were stripping themselves off the shelves in a frenzy, every single one, and coagulating in a pile at the base of the stairwell.

The showmare, meanwhile, examined her find. The metal of the band was swirling with small silver spirals, and the four gray gems embedded in the face looked as though they had dark black cores. While Trixie was no expert on rare metals or gems, she did know a thing or two about rare items, and what she'd just stumbled upon was known as a Void Diadem. An artifact that slightly increased magic power, and sometimes had other effects. Without messing about she placed the tiara on her head, over her own hat.

In an instant Topstitch's peaceful, idyllic, simple task had quickly turned into a terrifying trap. While Trixie played dress-up the books, powered by magic, had coalesced into a bipedal shape with massive club-like arms and a constantly writhing multicolor surface. It had no mouth to speak with but two of the cherry red books held the place for eyes, and it was staring directly at the two ponies who had just wasted their time shelving all the books that made up its body.

“I got you this,” said Trixie, extending her hoof to Topstitch and completely ignoring the construct before them.

Topstitch stared down at the silver band being offered to him and silently willed her to explain. “What's that for?” he finally asked.

“It's a hoof-ring! Trixie doesn't know what it does, so you should test it.”

The seamster turned his attention back to the monster at hoof. Trixie quickly slipped the hoof-ring onto her own foreleg and stared down the golem she'd created with her recklessness. As far as poor decisions go, she felt that she'd come out ahead of this one.

It hadn't occurred to either of them that the battle had already begun without Socks there to announce it. The book golem's massive arm came down at them, both ponies dove to the side to avoid it and the shower of literature that came from the impact point. It made another sweeping gesture with the opposite arm, its reach was so long that Trixie could only slide beneath its swing and scamper towards the opposite side of the room before it could attack again.

While it was busy with Trixie the golem wasn't watching Topstitch circle around its back side. The seamster clutched his knife in his teeth, but he wasn't sure what good it could do. The monster's hide was constantly moving and there were plenty of gaps to drive a knife through, but nothing that looked vital enough to injure the construct. On blind faith he drove the blade into one of the golem's calves and wrenched it around as much as he could. Instead of showing any signs of pain the golem just lifted its giant foot and moved it over Topstitch's head.

Not needing to be warned twice, the stallion fled, quickly sheathing his knife and meeting up with Trixie again as the golem's foot pounded down where he had been standing. While she held the light Trixie couldn't use any of her magic, and it looked like that was the only thing that was going to affect the golem. Both of them knew that it would only put them in a worse spot if he tried to use his own.

The golem turned on them again, only this time it didn't try to hit them directly. Instead it extended its arm and from it shot forth a spray of encyclopedias. Trixie tried to make herself as small as possible, unable to move out of the way in time, and took a thick hardcover to the side of the head. The impact left her brain reeling and her light temporarily died. Unfortunately the golem had perfect night vision, and it had no problem smacking Topstitch against one of the columns holding up the second floor.

It was evident that they needed to regroup. Once Topstitch recovered he caught Trixie's eye and dashed behind one of the bookshelves. The showmare followed his lead and met him there, listening to the sounds of the golem on the other side as it slowly worked its way towards them.

“Ideas?” Topstitch huffed, pressing a hoof to his side.

Trixie looked around the room and, failing to notice any industrial strength paper shredders, she shook her head. In the same moment the golem came around the corner and spotted them. The ponies hurried to get out of the way as it brought down an arm that filled the entire space and became a small wave of novellas cascading after the fleeing ponies. They met again behind the next bookshelf and, in a moment of enlightenment, they braced their hooves against it and kicked together.

The bookcase was heavy, but under their combined strength it teetered and collapsed on the aisle they had just escaped. At first it hit the golem and seemed as though it might simply shrug it off and crush the ponies themselves with it instead. However, a second later the bookcase sank and they watched half of the golem's torso go flying into the air while the other half was smashed and pooled out around its body in a large pile. Before they could even mistake it for a victory though the books began to return to the whole of the golem's form.

“Stairs,” Topstitch snapped. “Stairs!” he repeated, panicking as he galloped past the recuperating monster and headed for the exit.

They didn't get more than a yard or two past the golem's hulking figure before it shot another spray of books at them. Caught from behind, the two ponies were swallowed in a world of blunt trauma and paper-cuts as they were battered off course. In addition the golem had flooded the staircase, creating a treacherous mountain of tomes to climb in order to access it.

Whilst looking forlornly to the second floor and their escape Topstitch noticed something that might give them some help. High above there were a number of wrought iron chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Each one looked long-dormant, but they still held candles half-dripping with wax in their jewel-encrusted arms. The stallion pointed these out to the unicorn beside him and she got the hint instantly.

The entire room went dark for an instant before Trixie fired a sharp bolt of fire at the ceiling. The glow illuminated the room only enough to make the golem's advance all the more intimidating, but as the flame hit the roof it broke apart and separated into many dancing flames that sought out the candles on each of the chandeliers. Within a matter of moments the entire library was well lit, and Trixie was free to summon up a shield to fend off the next wave of volumes headed their way. The shield spell wasn't one of her class's specialties, so she could only hold it for a moment, but it was long enough for she and Topstitch to get out of the way.

The stallion returned to the staircase and began digging out their escape while Trixie stared down the world's grumpiest librarian and charged up another spell. The golem went to launch another book attack, but its arm was met halfway by a much bigger fireball. In that instant Trixie learned just how noisy books could be as hundreds of books filled the golem's face and each and every one's pages rapidly flipped from beginning to end, the collective noise of thousands of pages coming together in a hellacious roar.

When the smoke cleared Trixie was disappointed to see not a tower of flaming book-monster, but an intact golem shaking embers from the pages of its skin and continuing its onslaught. What books she had vaporized now lay in a pile at its feet, singed and damaged, but it walked on unhindered towards her.

“Kinetic force,” Topstitch grunted from behind the retreating showmare. “If you can break it apart you can slow it down enough for us to get out.”

“Trixie doesn't even know any push spells, I only takes spells that sound cool!”

“Just shoot it!” the seamster shouted.

By the time Trixie looked back at the golem there was a dictionary headed straight for her face. The showmare twisted away and it glanced her hip with enough force to knock her back into the deluge of books. By the time she managed to poke her head out of the pile Trixie was thoroughly done with the exercise. She fired another ball of flame at the ceiling, this time aiming for the chains that held up the chandeliers. As it struck one was dislodged and it came tumbling down, burying itself in the golem's head and momentarily crushing its form. The candles lit books ablaze as they fell out of their holders and the golem was far too busy ejecting its compromised body parts to notice Trixie aiding Topstitch by the stairs.

“Touch this, grab that! Sometimes I wonder if you do it on purpose,” Topstitch nitpicked.

“Hush! Trixie got you a gift, don't be petty.”

Together they cleared the way and tore up the stairs. The golem bellowed at them from below, but what could it do? It wasn't fast enough to get them up there, and it couldn't shoot books at them past the railing. They were home free- the entire landing lurched sideways. Trixie scrambled to get her footing as she slid a fraction of an inch towards the railing, far enough to see the golem had smashed out one of the columns holding them up. As a second one broke in its rampage the entire landing tilted sideways and the empty bookshelves on the far side of it began to lean towards the two ponies in their shadow.

“Trixie, open the door!” Topstitch barked. The stallion was already going full-pelt for the iron-bound portal, and she didn't need to be told twice.

As the bookshelves threatened to smash her Trixie moved with all the speed she could muster. Below, the golem materialized no longer as one being but as a massive swarm of airborne tomes, and they all came after Trixie and Topstitch like a cloud of giant wasps. One by one the shelves collapsed, each one coming closer to snagging Trixie's tail as she caught up to Topstitch and wrenched the door open with telekinesis, giving them a full view of a grand stone hall with an inviting red carpet just beyond.

The books caught up. Trixie nearly lost her hat in the onslaught, then an eye as the corner of one skimmed her face. The showmare abandoned any semblance of style as she felt the floor prepare for its last support to buckle. Topstitch vaulted through the doorway ahead of her, oblivious to the small brown book nibbling at his ears as he wheeled around to see Trixie's perilous dash. Though she was already tired, still tired from climbing the stairs that had landed them in this mess, Trixie put her last reserves into the home stretch. Nearly at the door she slipped on a small book, but instead of tripping her up it added its velocity to her own and acted like a roller-skate. Wailing for help, Trixie flew to the doorway and cleared the exit just as a bookshelf fell upon the open door from the other side and slammed it shut with all the passion of a moody teenager.

From the safety of the other side the two ponies collapsed and allowed their heart rates to slow from a ridiculous, 'I'm about to explode' pace to simply 'why do you hate me so much?' levels of speed. Behind them they could hear both the book golem's roars and the sound of an entire landing crumbling under its entire weight and that of many bookcases. Besides that, though, they were acutely aware that someone was watching them. A slight glance to the left was all it took, and the two out-of-breath dungeon crawlers laid eyes on four familiar gawking faces.

The other members of their party looked tranquil as could be. Each of them sat in a circle, and their cheeks bulged with crackers they had forgotten to swallow in their surprise. Luna made a show of forcing her share down her throat in one godly gulp as she rose to meet them. Trixie had never suspected that she might be glad to see the Princess of the Night, at least until she remembered standing up to that same mare in Socks' foyer... legendary.

“See?! They're fine,” the haberdasher exclaimed, cantering over to the two ponies. He bent down and smacked the book off of Topstitch's ear before attempting to help them up. Once Topstitch was more-or-less upright Socks threw back his hood, revealing a large dark circle around his left eye. “She hit me, 'Stitch! Our beloved princess, patron saint of the moon and stars, she punched me in the shiner!”

Trixie leaned closer, with all the presence of pony about to jab her sibling's bruised knee. Socks scooted further away, just in case.

“She hit you?” Topstitch mimicked, still assessing the damage to his body.

“Let Us explain!” Luna pleaded, shoving Socks aside as if he was only a small dog in her path. For all that she towered over them there was a definite look of remorse in her expression. “When thou fell We thought you lost, We mistook the haberdasher's cackles for those of malice instead of enthusiasm. Thus We attacked him in a fit of passion, for which We are truly sorry.”

“Oh yeah,” assured Donut Joe. The stallion choked slightly as he scarfed down his food in a hurry to join them. “Y'shoulda seen it, hay, half of Canterlot'd pay to see that. When we though you got roasted she pinned him to the wall and socked him right in the goggles. I'm surprised he can even see out of it.”

Socks was visibly irked at the stallion's apparent enjoyment of his rough treatment.

Joe was unapologetic, “What'd you guys find down there?”

“Books,” Trixie grumbled. “Shelves and shelves of stupid... books.”

Socks leaned in and tapped the tiara balanced atop Trixie's hat with a satisfied smirk. “I see you couldn't resist, as per the plan.”

“What about you,” Trixie asked, swatting away the haberdasher, “did you find the boss?”

Luna nodded. She gestured to her right with a troubled frown, “The boss chamber lies just ahead. We looked inside to see what we could from the doors, but no living thing dwells within.”

“So, zombies, right?”

The princess was not amused by Trixie's halfhearted jest, though Donut Joe thought it worthy of a hoofbump. Luna went on, “Whatever awaits us is in hiding. Once we cross its threshold we may very likely be trapped inside.”

While none of them felt particularly attached to the cave, the idea that they wouldn't be able to retreat was scarcely inviting. Joe looked worried least of all, if nothing else because he'd already had time to come to terms with the news, but his calm did far more to help the others' nerves than Socks' did. When they decided there was nothing left to say on the subject they reconvened by the fire the others had started just off the side of the carpet.

As they settled in and told the others of their detour Topstitch was careful to skirt any details about the wolf-ponies. It wasn't worth burdening the princess's mind any further, and he carefully derailed Trixie when she was about to spill the beans. It was hard to stop her from gloating about having figured out the mystery, but eventually she caught the hint and fell into a disgruntled silence as he wrapped up the story with their fight with the golem.

Still, there was one other member of their party who didn't need to know anything. Socks was well aware of everything that had transpired, and he let them know it through his sneaky glances and quick smiles whenever Topstitch omitted something. It was strange to see the haberdasher so prideful of the grim backstory he'd created, but then that's all it was to Socks. Among them he was, ironically, still the most seated in the real world, perhaps dangerously so.

From A Magician's Sleeve

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Chapter Ten: From A Magician's Sleeve

It wasn't long before they'd devoured the last of their supplies. What water and food they'd had was now safely within their stomachs. While not the lunch of champions – a large helping of hay fries or a Fillydelphia Daisy Melt would've been quite welcome – it served its purpose. Trixie felt her magic coming back, little by little, and the other four were becoming pampered by the extended break.

Donut Joe gave a long yawn, “Let's wrap this up, the tension's putting me to sleep.”

“And on that inspirational anecdote...” Topstitch trailed off, getting to his hooves slowly and stretching his lazy limbs.

The others nodded their consent and helped gather up the rest of the gear. As they worked they avoided trading glances with the giant pair of double-doors which loomed over them. The portal was plain in design, yet imposing by its very nature, cheekily daring the party to set forth inside. When there was no putting it off any longer the ponies assembled at the base of the entryway and split up between the sides, throwing their shoulders into the heavy task of working them open. The massive hinges made no sound as they pressed inward, the light of the torches gradually spread across the massive space ahead, causing all the walls to shimmer strangely.

Luna's hoof was the first inside, it squelched loudly as it sunk into the plush carpet of the threshold. She pulled herself back in alarm, eying the substance she'd trod in as though it were surely poison. The gunk coated the entirety of the chamber beyond, a heavy stench of oil and ammonia mingled together. Luna squinted, silently willing her eyes to gather all the light that she could and still she couldn't see through the blackness that lay just beyond the torch's aura.

“If the last challenge is mopping this room, Trixie forfeits,” scoffed The Great and Powerful Trixie as she took one whiff of the room.

The others ignored her and delved further into the chamber. Their entry was heralded by the sound of twenty hooves squishing and squashing as they awkwardly waddled across the goo. It was undeniably the same as the goo they'd found elsewhere in the caves, only in much greater quantity. Not only was it the floor, the walls and ceiling were likewise painted in their entirety, giving off a spooky yet mesmerizing sheen to their surroundings.

Joe craned his neck to watch small globules drip from the ceiling like mucus rain. “You got me thinkin' about it, but, ah, didn't you say somethin' about slime, Socks?” There was no reply from behind him. Donut Joe stopped and turned around, staring at empty space where Knee Socks had been standing seconds before. “Aah, almond bear claws...” Joe swore as he noted that Socks had vanished completely.

He needn't explain what had happened, the others were already on high alert. Joe dropped the torch he carried to access his sword, realizing too late how bad an idea that was. The torch planted itself firmly in the goo with a soft hiss and the entire cave went dark. There was an uproar of squelching noises as the panicked ponies tried to right themselves and find a new light. None of them could so much as make out an outline in the pitch black.

“Cease!” shouted Luna. “Still thy hooves and listen.”

“I'm not moving,” Trixie piped back.

“That sound isn't coming from us,” said Mwali.

He was right. The sound was everywhere at once, echoing off all the walls, but it didn't originate from their small circle.

“Light,” Topstitch whispered into what he thought was Trixie's ear.

A small pinprick graced Trixie's horn. The ghostly purple faces of her friends stood out, or in Luna's case her chest and neck, her head was aimed upward while she strained her ears. It dawned on each of them that what little they had gained came at a terrible price, and that Trixie's horn served as well as a beacon as would a neon sign that proclaimed 'please eat us'. The squelching had stopped, but the smell was worse than ever, as though they were bathing in hair dye.

Another sound bounced around the room, a low gurgling like air bubbles in a water jug. Something dropped on Topstitch's shoulder, moist and cold. He bit his tongue to stop himself from yelping and his whole body shook. Luna took notice and followed the slime projectile back to its source on the ceiling. She raised her hoof and prodded Trixie gently, indicating her line of sight. The light from Trixie's horn intensified and the others mirrored Luna's posture.

Glorph...

Trixie gave a high-pitched squeal and bolted out of the semi-circle. Luna shouted after her, but was staring at the fleeing magician through a haze as a five-foot-tall cube of solid green slime splashed to the floor in front of Luna's face. The creature was tinged eerily purple by Trixie's magic, and two black eyes swam in its center like shiny stones. Luna froze, unsure whether to attack or retreat as it stared straight into her eyes and made one disgusting sound.

Glorph.

The slime wobbled forwards. Luna cantered backwards and lunged as she drew her sword, driving the blade into its center mass. Mwali's spear crossed paths as it punched into the monster from the side and nearly found an eye, a third attack followed as Donut Joe sliced a crescent into the side opposite. The small beads swirled slightly, moving apart from each other to stare at Mwali and Donut Joe simultaneously. Suddenly it lurched forwards and its surface brushed Luna's muzzle.

As though by a dozen pairs of unseen hands Luna's face was being pulled forwards, into the slime's body. She couldn't breathe and her attempts to pull herself out were hampered by the ooze coating the ground. Mwali stabbed at the slime again, but it was unfazed the same as their first attack. Luna's eyes were almost to the wall of green when she snapped them shut and she could taste the gel on her tongue.

With a small leap and a mighty stroke Donut Joe hacked a corner off the cube. It slid off like a hunk off ice and splatted on the floor. The cube stopped just briefly to re-adjust its eyes on Joe as he stared aghast at the quivering lump of goo he'd severed. Luna took the chance to double her effort, releasing her sword and pulling away as Topstitch grabbed her about the shoulders and tugged her back. Luna's face came free and she gasped for air, choking out the repulsive goo and rubbing it off of her snout with a foreleg.

“How in Star Swirl's britches are we supposed to defeat that?” Topstitch exclaimed, sure to keep a fair distance from the slime.

Glorph, it replied unhelpfully.

“R-rinse and repeat?” said Donut Joe. “Maybe it just wants to style our manes for a fancy shindig.”

“Something tells me this goo isn't meant for haircare,” Mwali replied as he backed away.

Far from banter, Trixie was fixated on what sat atop the slime. Unmistakeably was the pointy red and black hat from Midnight Gloom's portrait. Her thoughts flashed back tot he slime throughout the dungeon, to the mess hall where the doors were barred and the occupants found gone. A shapeless slime wouldn't have had any trouble navigating the traps and small crevices of the entire fortress. Certainly it wouldn't be any trouble to sneak into the throne room and gobble up the mage himself.

“A sword, Donut Joe,” barked Luna.

Joe snapped out of his daze and fished in his rucksack. He brandished one of the swords they'd found earlier and held it towards her, but the slime blocked his path. “Uh, get ready to duck,” he said, curling his neck to throw the weapon.

Luna winced as he whirled the sword around and it flew over the slime in a deadly arc. It landed on the tip inches from where she stood and bounced up towards her muzzle. Luna deflected the hilt with her bracers and caught the grip in her teeth before it could fall into the muck. The slime moved its eyes to face her, though it seemed disinterested. It had a point, the sword would do no good if she couldn't harm it.

“Where's some of that meta-game stuff Socks was talking about?” said Joe, aiming the question at Trixie.

She fidgeted, that's right, the others had no idea how to deal with a slime. It was one of the most dangerous creatures in the monster compendium. They grow larger and stronger the more that they eat, and they could quickly regenerate any bits that got chopped off. There was no shortage of ooze for it to rebuild with. That wasn't to say they were invincible. If you mixed types of slime it could be toxic, and fire could always be used to burn away the slime. Trixie couldn't help her pride bubbling over. Ask her the core laws of levitation and her brain may as well be filled with straw, but she had Age of Nightmares memorized.

The showmare did her best to prance gaily across the sticky terrain, lording her knowledge over all of them. “Well, my ignorant colleagues, first of all it's useless to stab at it. Only slicing attacks can remove its mass, and the more you chop off the weaker it gets. Should it be that you can see to such a daunting task The Great and Powerful Lulamoon should be able to destroy it with fire and lay a final blow.” Trixie stopped a few feet from the slime and raised her hoof to her chin with a devilish smile, “Don't waste your final glorphs, slime, because you are no match for Trixie!”

Unamused, the slime skated towards her with an alarming swiftness across the oozy floor.

Trixie yelped and tried to spring backwards, only to be suction cupped back down. She laughed nervously, “Trixie has reconsidered her threat, and would like to negotiate for her release.”

“Her hide changes color with a swiftness that could shame a chameleon,” said Mwali. The zebra sprung into action to pull Trixie out of harms way.

Behind him Luna took off, separating herself from the goo and flying near to the ceiling of the cave. Without ado she dove back in at an angle, severing a large portion of the slime's body before banking away and going for another attack. Donut Joe saw the slime's eyes swirling to find the princess and took the chance to deal damage of his own, catching the slim across the middle with his sword and trying to cut it clean in half. His sword came to a stop and became like lead, lead which was encased in cement, cement which had been chained in place and said 'glorph'. Joe put his hoof up to separate his sword from the slime, but his limb sunk in an inch or two instead. Just as he was about to panic a flash of blew lit the spot and the slime's body boiled and exploded outward as it was blasted with lightning.

The slime made its disgusting noise again as its eyes split apart into four, moving them to watch Trixie behind it, Luna above, and Joe in front. The last eye settled on Mwali as he approached quickly with an incandescent sword in his teeth. He drove it across the slime's body and rent a sizzling gash across its face and destroyed a large portion of it. In response the slime leapt clean over Mwali and towards Trixie, singling her out as the one who'd first used magic. She hopped away to avoid being landed on and swallowed whole, firing off a panicked heatwave as she peddled back. The slime swiveled its eyes in little spirals as it grew agitated and began to inch the other way.

“It's going to regenerate,” Trixie huffed, as though it were everypony else's fault. “Keep on it or it'll just keep healing.”

Just as she said, the slime began gathering more goo to its form and slowly rebuilding the sections that were cut off or burned. It made its bubbling noises quite happily all the while, zigzagging across the sticky ground.

Luna was on top of it. Soaring through the air and unimpeded by movement penalties, the princess swooped low and hacked off another layer of slime even as it was being built up. The others were too far away, and she landed to try and land another blow or two. A small bulge appeared on the slime's surface and Luna regarded it curiously for a moment, at least until it splashed outward like a cannonball and hammered the joint of Luna's right wing.

“'Dat can't be good,” said Joe. Pausing in his struggle to get nearer the conflict.

The projectile hardened and pinned Luna's wing in place, effectively grounding her. She wasted no time in scoring another two cuts, but beat a hasty retreat as another bulge formed and aimed straight for her head. This one was smaller, easier to avoid, but as Luna raised the broad side of her sword to intercept the projectile she was struck instead by an acidic smell and heard a sizzling from the blade. The weapon itself was intact, but the goo had gnawed the blade gently and removed much of its shiny finish.

The slime made to engulf Luna, only to receive two small knives plunged into its back. Topstitch's throwing knives were swallowed entirely and floated strangely in the middle of the cube as it paused and repositioned its eyes to see the new attacker. Its gaze was met with a colossal fireball to the face. The orb sunk in and at first seemed like it might be snuffed out, only to expand quickly and blow a gaping crater in the slime. Its glorphs turned into a watery groan as it fled in the other direction.

Mwali was already there, the zebra had overcome the footing and now moved as lithely as a jungle cat. He slashed wildly with his illusory blade and lay deep ruts across the slime. As soon as its eyes could change position it whipped out a gooey tentacle and slapped Mwali across the face, stunning him more than anything else, but the remnants of slime on his cheek began to burn away the fur.

Luna grumbled as she re-engaged. They surrounded the slime and lay about it from all sides, far enough from each other only to allow Trixie a clear shot with her magic. Every hunk that they sliced away merely trembled on the ground before slithering back to the greater whole, and the slime had no trouble chasing them off or getting around the ponies. It felt like nothing was working, even burning away the slime just caused it to flee and pick up more. All the while it made its awful 'glorph' sound and taunted them as it slowly destroyed their gear and whittled away their endurance.

It wasn't long before they were scattered again. Trixie was stuck cleaning up the mess, burning away the still-living bits as the slime skittered away. Donut Joe and Topstitch were still having trouble trekking laboriously through the syrupy mire and Mwali was running out of magic. At least between the four combatants they could keep the slime's attention divided, but its projectiles fired rapidly and from all sides, making it difficult to keep up a volley of attacks for any period of time.

“We noft gon be able to keep dif up,” Topstitch garbled through his weapon's handle. Trixie gave him a look of utter confusion that only made him feel like more of an idiot.

“Kill it faster then!” Trixie replied.

Mwali's armor was all but burned away, patches of skin exposed and scarred as if he'd bathed in a fryer. Luna's chain-mail was scarred as well, and the face of her buckler had been almost entirely melted from catching the goo bullets with it. She was out of breath and more than a little irritated as she hacked at the slime and fought to pull her only good wing free of its suction. She and Mwali had abandoned all form and fought more like belligerent swashbucklers than any sort of trained warriors.

To the untrained eye it seemed like a challenging fight, however, to the seasoned role-player there were other forces at work. Things were a little different from normal tabletop games, but she could tell the slime was just a little too fast and too quick to rebuild itself. Mayhaps he'd done it because she'd used meta-game knowledge to help win the fight, but Socks was making this even harder on them than it should've already been. At the rate they were going at least one of them would be gobbled up and digested before the fight was won. Unless a certain magician happened to have brought a wild card into the game world with her.

“Topstitch, do you know what would be helpful?” Trixie asked.

“If I strangled Socks the next time he showed his stupid face?”

Trixie paused to consider that. It would've definitely been fun to watch, but it wasn't what she meant. She nudged Topstitch closer to the slime with her muzzle. “Get the others to distract the slime, but don't waste time trying to hurt it anymore. Trixie needs to concentrate for this trick.”

The stallion showed no inkling of understanding. “To do what?” he asked.

“To perform feats beyond your wildest imagination,” Trixie replied, sitting in a regal pose only to lather her entire backside in goo. The sensation was disturbing at best, and would go on to haunt her nightmares for years to come. A frown wormed its way onto her face as she stood back up. “Leave Trixie to her art...” she muttered meekly.

Topstitch turned away and looked for an opening in the fight. He was just in time to watch as Donut Joe took a walloping punch in the schnoz from a flailing tentacle. The stallion's hind legs were encased in hardened goo and he didn't have the time or traction to crawl away from the advancing slime. Mwali and Luna flanked the creature to cover him, but Topstitch was closest, and with his dirk he hacked at the goo trapping Joe and helped him to his hooves.

“Trixie wants us to play defense,” Topstitch explained. “She's got some kind of plan, let the others know.”

Joe looked nonplussed, “Well sure, they're right over there. Just shout it, HEY-”

Topstitch jammed a goo-covered hoof in Joe's mouth, causing him to splutter and choke. “Don't let Socks hear you, I suspect he's doing a little meta-gaming of his own.”

“One thing at a time, eh?” said Joe, realization dawning on his face.

Topstitch nodded and left to inform Luna.

The Princess of the Night was busily engaged. Mwali had run out of spells to use without burning a hole in his neck and that left the onslaught largely up to her, with the others running interference at most. Her sword gashed and flew to and fro, large quantities of slime came loose and wobbled to the ground to be kicked away where they couldn't join up with the body again. She only noticed Topstitch just in time to stop herself from reflexively beheading him, and paused long enough to draw a deep breath and lend him her ear.

“Trixie's trying something different, she needs us to keep it busy.”

Luna huffed, part exhaustion and part anger, “A thousand pardons, but what dost she think We are doing? We are not continuing this attack for the fun. Without her magic what are we meant to do to wound it?”

“I don't know, I don't play these games!” Topstitch whined, “but we have to think of something.”

“Step aside, ladies,” said Donut Joe, cracking his neck with alarming volume. He hadn't forgotten that he had magic too, and one way or another he was determined to make it work. Watching Mwali swing around a sword made of fire had twinged the smallest of jealous nerves in Joe's competitive nature. He wasn't about to let anypony get swallowed by what looked like the result of a year's worth of congested sinuses. He tried to focus on the mental image, reaching out for the soft tingle of magic. “Stripes,” he called out, “I'm gettin' somethin'. What do?”

Mwali looked at him, agitated as he thrust his spear pointlessly through the slime's lower half. “Focus on where the power lies and let it flow. Form a spell in your mind's eye, then simply let it go.”

“Monkey think, monkey cast spell,” Joe simplified. He focused on the tingling hex mark like trying to tense an oft forgotten muscle. If anything it felt like he was about to pop a blood vessel in his neck, but he went with it. The hex gave off little more illumination than a night-light. His first instinct was to run home for his mom as heat pooled in his neck and began to burn underneath his skin. The blade of his sword hummed gently and Joe saw the first cracks of electricity arcing across its tip.

Just then a giant gob of goo collided with Joe's face. His eyes were glued shut and he was knocked over flailing and unable to breath. All traces of magic faded as he struggled to free his face before the slime hardened.

“Next time I'm playing a mage,” Topstitch grumbled as he moved quickly to Joe's side to free him again.

Luna turned her head to find Trixie. She stood stock still in the same place she had been for several moments now, her eyes snapped shut in concentration. “Thy solution would be appreciated any moment now,” Luna shouted.

“Shh!” she hissed back.

Trixie's breathing was laborious and it felt like her horn might explode. Were it the real world she had no doubt that it would've broken ten times over. Although the others couldn't see it her insides were writhing like all of her muscles had become snakes. Every inch of her body was flooded with magical energy that she'd pulled out of her surroundings. In the real world it would have never worked, at least not in a cave like that one, but within the game world everything around them was innately magical. It allowed her to pool a massive amount of energy, the type that she needed for her ultimate technique.

“Trix... Triiiixie, Trixie what the hay are you doing to my game?” Socks' voice echoed in Trixie's brain.

It was almost enough to throw off her focus entirely and she winced painfully as a spark of errant magic shot off her horn. She had to speed up the process. She poured all the magic she'd gathered into her horn like opening up floodgates filled with lava. Tiny sparks became zig-zagging bolts of purple aura. A small wave pulsed from her hooves, wobbling the gel around her as a small sphere began to form above her head. It was black, with a ring of jagged white teeth spinning rapidly in its center and shocks of purple energy thrashing about inside, crackling madly as they tried to burst the shell.

“Trixie,” Sock's voice was closer now. He was standing just beside her. His temper was unmistakable as he roared, “Trixie if you don't stop whatever that is- Trixie you listen to me!”

The battle nearby had paused as all combatants turned to watch the spectacle. The sphere had grown exponentially, small waves of force ripping off of it at odd angles and producing an unnatural wind around Trixie's figure. Spikes of electricity singed the gooey ground and even threatened to burn Socks' coat.

“What is she doing?” Mwali asked.

“I got nothin',” said Joe, jaw agape. “I just don't wanna be in the way of that spell.”

It wasn't a spell in the classical sense. Trixie was nowhere near good enough to write her own magic, that much she had to admit. She realized now it may take a lifetime before she was able to hold that much energy back in Equestria. Instead of a spell it was more like taking a garden hose, turning it into that of a fire engine, and then turning that into a full-blown hydro-cannon. What she was doing wasn't a spell, it was unleashing pure raw magic

“Trixie!” Socks splashed his hooves in the goo beside her, looking completely irate before he threw his hood up over his head. “You're ruining the game! I won't have this!”

The orb left at breakneck speeds, and the laws of physics felt no mercy. Trixie was simultaneously leeched of all the energy in her body and blasted backwards clean into the air. Her attack careened magnetically through the darkness of the cave towards its target, now the only source of light in the cave. Trixie only had time to blink before she bounced off the ground, rag-dolling violently as she smashed into something very solid. She lay immobile at the foot of Midnight Gloom's throne, covered in green gel and watching in awe.

“What the-”

A flurry of admonishments filled the room as the dark sphere spiraled on its course and impacted the slime at the complete opposite end of the cave. The impact was louder than thunder. This time the slime didn't melt, explode, or sizzle, it was just torn apart. It only took a second or two for the waves of energy pouring off the sphere to vaporize the slime, its pointy hat, and all the goo in the surrounding area. The space where the slime had been was engulfed by a miniature lightning storm that sounded like the static from a thousand television sets as the sphere swallowed itself and imploded.

The resulting shock-wave knocked all five still-standing ponies off their hooves. After the orb detonated an entire wall of the throne room shattered and collapsed. Rock and stone cascaded from the ceiling and through the dust was glimpsed starlight and the glow of the gigantic full moon hanging in the night. Suddenly the entire cave was lit with the natural glow of the celestial body, more than enough light by which to see the paralyzed and pitiful form crumpled at the foot of the throne.

Trixie's hat was gone, and she almost looked like a slime monster herself from all the goo on her coat. She could've been dead as she lay there, one eye open, if not for the smirk that played at her lips and grew as she took in the results of her all out attack.

“What in Tartarus have you done, you stupid, inconsiderate mare?” Socks tiraded. “That's not a spell from the game! You cheated!”

Trixie couldn't reply. Everything was too hazy. Socks sounded like a broken trombone more than a dungeon master. She wanted to gloat, to tell him what mischief she had wrought. Most of all she wanted them to know her technique's name. Sparkle-Buster Cannon. A magic attack without equal.

The others swarmed her body as Trixie faded from consciousness. As Luna supported the mare's head Topstitch broke out all the healing salves that remained. Donut Joe frantically tried to get the burning goo off of the showmare's coat before it could do any damage. Mwali was particularly alarmed, he stood off to the side with bated breath, his tongue caught and his heart frozen as he stared at their best hope of breaking out of the illusion.

Socks paid them no mind. He retracted within himself to brood, staring forlornly at the night sky. That was it, game over. A few small-time traps and small encounters, and Trixie had rounded it all out with one cheap trick. How had she even done it? He had no idea. Socks reached into the pocket of air and retrieved his notebook, flipping quickly to the page with Trixie's character sheet stapled to it. He didn't even need to look at her list of spells, he knew that whatever she'd done wouldn't be on there. So how did she do it?

Socks flipped to the last page of his notebook, skimming past his notes concerning the fight with the slime monster. All the way at the bottom was a tiny scribble that read 'End'. As his eyes lingered there they began to water. Back to the real world then. Back to his store, day after day. Making costumes in his spare time so all the little foals could have their make believe fun. It wasn't a bad like... but by comparison? This was so much more. Watching the world through a crystal ball, changing Equestria forever with the stroke of a pen or the flick of his silver tongue. It was intoxicating, and heartbreaking that it would end on such a weak note. How was he supposed to say goodbye to all that?

A black quill appeared in the air beside him, the tip already bathed in ink. A devilish idea lay seeds in his mind, a simple white lie. How would they ever know? They wouldn't, he rationalized. What if they found out? They couldn't, not in a million years. Changing Equestria forever, with the stroke of a pen, that dream didn't have to be over, not yet. Before he could convince himself to stop Socks pressed the quill to his notebook paper and drew one long wavy question mark. The dungeon master watched the ink set in, and as it dried he smiled to himself. Silently congratulating his own genius.

'End?'

* * *

When Trixie next awoke she was laying on her back, and when she opened her eyes she wasn't surrounded by four walls and five other ponies expressing their relief to be back home. There were no walls around her, just a towering mountain on one side and a far drop to the lush green forest below. An icy wind fluttered through her hair and set her teeth chattering. Trixie clung to her cape, wrapped about her as it was like some sort of cocoon.

Save the sounds of nature she heard nothing, and assumed she was alone. The sky was the only thing in view without turning her head, and she learned quickly that turning her head hurt, a lot. So she stared in silence up at the brilliant lights in the sky, particularly a group almost directly above her, a constellation she'd never seen before that made up a strangely defined face. Before she could make any further observations a periwinkle muzzle with wiry orange hairs blocked her vision.

Socks' pale fur seemed to glow against the backdrop of the moon, and his neon pink irises gleamed at her. A smile crept across his lips as he saw she was awake. He hissed one solitary word, “Cheater.”

A sheet of paper was now hovering in her face. Her own character sheet, Lulamoon de Fleur Mariotte. With the exception of a minor edit at the bottom, in glowing gold letters her own handwriting had been revealed and it read, 'Special Ability: Sparkle-Buster Cannon'. No magician likes it when her tricks are spoiled, but Trixie couldn't help grinning. The last moments of the battle with the slime flashed through her mind in rapid succession.

“Invisible ink,” Socks went on, “now that's clever. I've never seen that before. How did you know I wouldn't just rule that you couldn't use it?”

Trixie squirmed and attempted to escape her cocoon, but she was wrapped up tight. Socks' hoof pushed firmly on her chest, keeping her still. She gave up and answered, “Trixie hoped you would respect her ingenuity enough to let it slide... plus Age of Nightmare's core rulebook also states that a player can make any custom options they want, as long as the dungeon master approves of it.”

Socks mumbled a swear. He hated technicalities. Even if he hadn't known what he was agreeing to, he had approved each and every one of their character sheets. Still, invisible ink was a low blow. If they'd still been sitting around a table he would've never let her get away with it. “Fair enough, I suppose. It doesn't look like you'll be using it any time soon, anyways, not if you like having a horn.”

“What?!” Trixie's eyes shot upwards, trying to get a glimpse of her horn, images of a shattered and broken stub plagued her thoughts.

“Made you look!” Socks exclaimed, full of glee.

Suddenly his smile wasn't scary, it was just infuriating. Trixie tripled her efforts to escape her own garment, the pain she could suffer if she could just get her hooves around his neck. It was no use, and she had every reason to suspect magic was at work there. “So it didn't work,” she said. “We're still in the game.”

“Correct.”

“And Trixie suspects you're not too upset.”

Socks snickered, “There are worse fates. The others went back to town to see if finishing the quest would work, but really I don't think it'll do much good.”

Of course not, Trixie thought sourly. She sighed and looked back at the stars, “What are we supposed to do then? If the script is over how does this stupid game keep working?”

“Oh!” Socks beamed at her, both hooves on her chest as if he were about to swing her around in circles. “You'll love this, I know I do. It's totally automated. It's all going on its own script now. I mean I'm still in charge, of course, but it works just like a real society. There's farmers farming, and bankers taking everyone's bits. I wouldn't be surprised if you find a few ambient quests in town either. I was worried that the whole world revolved around you five, but it's all there, even if you're not.”

“Trixie doesn't care what farmers and bankers are doing, what are we supposed to do?”

Socks formed a small 'o' with his mouth and furrowed his brow in thought. “You're right,” he said, “without a script you five are adventurers without an adventure. I'll get to work on it, straight away.”

“To escape! What are we supposed to do in order to get out of your insane playground?”

“Playground, that's... actually, that's perfect. It really is like a playground here, wouldn't you say?” Socks giggled to himself. She didn't quite share his enthusiasm and he added in a chastising tone, “Don't worry, you'll be fine. You're adventurers, and while farmers are farming, adventurers should be adventuring. If we play along with how the game's supposed to go I'm positive it'll end sooner or later.”

Trixie's reply was cut short by the sound of wings pounding against the air. Her cape magically unbound her and Socks backed away so that she could wobble to her hooves. Princess Luna rose above the edge of the cliff and came to ground between the two ponies, bowing her head as though she'd been carrying a sack of bricks on her neck. Luna sunk to her haunches and took a moment's pause before greeting them.

“Thou are awake, Great and Powerful Trixie,” she said. “We owe you a debt for your actions in the cave.”

“For all the good it did,” Trixie replied.

Luna closed her eyes in thought. “It did enough, we are all alive and unharmed due to you.”

As much as she wanted to, Trixie couldn't flaunt her prowess. She broke from the princess's gaze and played with a rock on the ground instead. They'd won, but it wasn't the total victory she'd wished for.

Luna moved closed, a wing unfurling towards Trixie's side, but she thought better and retracted it. She was in no better spirits than Trixie was, and she was likewise mired in disappointment that they had not already made it back to the real world. Beside Trixie she stared up at the moon in silence, wishing for the first time she could remember that the sun were hanging in its place, that Celestia was there and already had a plan to fix everything. Her sister had a special way with comforting others and inspiring hope.

Where Luna strained for reassurance in her words, she sounded instead cold and calculated. “With our gains from the dungeon the others have found us shelter, and a portion of the earnings were put towards this,” Luna retrieved a small purple gem from a satchel. It glittered softly and its inside swirled like water. “A sage told us you could use this to travel to town in your weakened state.”

Trixie took the gem in her hoof and lowered her horn to touch it. Both glowed eerily. She looked at the alicorn before her as though she was a filly. “It's called a homestone,” she explained. “Just how much of Trixie's loot did you squander on this?”

“Magical services are not in cheap supply here, but we did our best to barter a fair price.”

By the scowl growing on her lips Trixie made it clear she wasn't appreciative. I'm not handicapped, she thought bitterly. Trixie can walk just fine.

Luna sighed. “Trixie, thou and ourselves may not have met on good terms. Thou may not even like us very much. Our ideals are different, but we do not think ourself wrong that you wish the best for everypony here, just as we do. In some ways thou are even an admirable pony.”

Socks, playing witness nearby, was flabberghasted. “'Admirable'?” he seethed, “She cheated!”

Trixie couldn't help but turn her head upward at the word. She found herself staring right into the princess's eyes. Admirable, the word held a special place in her vocabulary, but it was uncommon to hear it from lips other than her own. Hearing it from a princess was like listening to an alien dialect.

Luna nodded, her expression now gentle, “Were that you had walked another path you could have been a fine member of the royal court. Beyond your knowledge of this game, I see in you a strength of spirit.” Luna turned her gaze up to the sky, pausing so she didn't fumble her words. “It is my sister's belief that magic is only the second most powerful force in Equestria, and she has often said it to be dwarfed by the power of heart. Love and determination can achieve things more incredible than any spell.”

Trixie's head felt heavy again. She was tired, too tired to even register what Luna was saying to her. Her determination was being gnawed away, though she could still feel it egging her on. Somewhere deep inside it laughed away the princess's praise.

'It's no surprise,' the voice said, 'after all, Trixie was destined for greatness from the day she was born.'

After what felt like too long spent in silence Trixie finally forced herself to ask, “If you're the Princess of the Night, and you can control dreams, why can't you just wake us up?” Her own voice sounded strange, almost like she was making a wish.

Luna thought carefully on phrasing her answer. “Within a dream even the Princess of the Night is only as the dreamer thinks us. In a dream it is the dreamer who holds absolute power, and we cannot sway events that they wish to remain unchanged, only aid when they have lost control and given way to nightmares.”

Trixie's head turned imperceptibly towards Knee Socks, who stood idly nearby as he changed costumes a dozen times or more at his whim. “Trixie suspects the dreamer is content here.”

Luna followed the movement and caught sight of Socks. She continued more quietly, “This dream will not last forever, I promise you. Have faith in the ponies around you, for they are all of noble heart, and shall prove it to you before the end. I believe that you will do the same, for thou are in possession of a great and powerful heart.”

What wounds Trixie's confidence had suffered were slowly fading. She didn't know what she could say about her faith in others, Socks least of all, but she could at least agree with the last bit. “The Great and Powerful Trixie isn't a mare to be toyed with by illusions. Trixie is going to beat that insufferable hatter, and his defeat will be spectacular, I promise you.”

Socks chuckled as he caught her speech. He approached the cliff's edge to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the two mares, despite their incompatible height differences. “As long as we're clear on that, there's nothing wrong with making it a good show,” he replied, his smile broad.

Trixie's contemptuous smirk was for the haberdasher's eyes alone. She flipped her mane and laughed, “Trixie always puts on a good show.”

Author's Notes:

OH MY! Finally a chapter update. I'd like to say that I've been busy, but I haven't. Ultimately though I took the time to wait on editing and posting this one and I think it's a lot better for it. I've read over it pretty carefully myself but besides that no one's proof-read it, so forgive any small errors and poke them out for me. I've still got some other smaller projects to get out, including "Poképony: Element Quest", but I've run into a few planning snags that made me put that one on hold for a little while to sort things out.

Also going into NaNoWriMo this month, I'll be doing something non-pony for that so it could be another long pause before another chapter of Haberdasher is up, but I really wanted to finally get this one out and wrap up the first arc so that we can move onto the next... which I like to call The Nightmare Arc. Ooooh. Spooky.

Fun fact: The Sparkle-Buster Cannon was actually meant to show up in the dream-sequence during the prologue, but I ended up doing the joke where she lost her horn instead. And obviously she couldn't use the technique if her horn isn't there. I thought about fixing it, but it didn't feel necessary, and it made her 'technique' more of a surprise anyways. There's a bit of backstory to explain the technique and why she was developing it, but we'll get into that stuff later if it doesn't come up in the story.

Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!

Trixie & The Haberdasher's Dungeon

by SneakyKGB

Up On High

Home Is Where Your Hat Hangs

Foreign Imports

Trixie's Royal Pains

Easing Them In

Animal Affinity

Getting The Ropes

Knowledge Check

Old Habits, New Problems

From A Magician's Sleeve