Having obliterated the Crystal Empire during Memories of the Stone, Sombra and his master forge an army of the underworld to resume their war against Equestria.
King Sombra is a king without a place to rule, having reduced the Empire to ashes in order to save himself (and most of the world, but who's counting?). With his new master and an army of demons, can he take advantage of the resulting chaos to reforge himself as lord of the monstrous underworld below Tartarus?
This actually started as part of The Night of a Broken Heart, but took on a life of it's own. Rather than clog up that story, I've transferred Sombra's chapters to this and will, of course be adding to them. A sequel to Memories of the Stone Contains elements lovingly liberated from Square-Enix's Final Fantasy series. Breaks from canon as of the Season 3 ending.
Sombra, King Of The Crystal Empire (forcibly retired), Dark Rider Of The Horde Of Jolfr, and Shadow Lord woke to nearly complete darkness.
The "nearly" part would be owing to the two coals Jolfr charitably called his "eyes" watching over the unicorn, plus a few more pairs of eerily luminescent pupils belonging to the winged Kindred standing nearby. For a cavern, the spot Sombra was resting in seemed surprisingly comfortable, a dusty wallow that smelled faintly of volcanic minerals. Heat soaked through the sand and into his blackened hide, and the entire experience was rather sublime- considering he'd been sleeping off a bad case of mystical exhaustion.
But Gods Below, he itched. Rolling in the sand, he could feel the dried bits of leftover combat, loose scabs from healed-over wounds, sweat and general grunge come loose as he lay on his back, pushing the warm sand into his fur like a masseuse. The volcanic sands scrubbed away the filth like a curry brush and the warlock stood up and shook, sending bits of sand and loosened fuzz off in a cloud.
"Ahhhhhhhhh....", rolled out from between his teeth, half-yawn, half satisfied moan of pleasure...before his stomach awoke and growled a nasty demand to be fed.
"Ah, our little angel of the abyss has awoken for the evening. Just in time for dinner with the guest."
A peppery scent sifted through the dim and dreary cavern, leading Sombra's nose like it'd put a ring through his nostrils and yanked. The sound of a bubbling pot could be heard as something stirred the simmering contents, sending another cloud of spice to push aside the usual scents of the dank hole. But who?
His horn brightened a widening circle as he conjured light from the tip of his horn, but the childishly easy spell collapsed on itself almost as fast as it was summoned, leaving only the relatively dim glow of aura to show...to show...
What it was stirring the pot was as alien a creature as he'd ever seen. To his surprise, it spoke decent, if roughly accented Equestrian.
"Oi! C'mon up and have yourself a pot. Gobbie cooking is good food!"
The creature stood crooked-kneed over it's cast-iron cauldron, clad in blackened metal armor that hid most of it's form. Two long, pointed green ears flopped out from the mask covering most of it's face- only the hint of a pointed chin waggling as it talked and the lively black eyes peering out from beneath the metal. Gripped in one gauntleted fist, a rod made of jade poked and prodded at some unrecognizable lumps as they floated to the surface.
"Hey, stony guy! Pointy over there eats mushrooms, right?"
The swirling nightmare occupying the crystal in the center of the cavern sent a phantom chuckle into the minds of his more material companions.
"They were eating whatever grew off the ground when I last saw the surface, Proferlix.", Jolfr replied.
The creature speared one of the lumps and waved the dripping bit of what turned out to be fungus around.
"Grab a for...oh, loverly. How's he supposed to..."
The mushroom speared on the end of Proferlix's fork floated off into the air and into Sombra's mouth. He chewed on the soggy bit. Sharp accents bit at his tongue as the juices squeezed out, and the flavor seeped deeper in his skull.
Tasty."Like a civilized being, of course. With my horn. Hooves are for mud ponies and other crude beings."
Proferlix proceeded to make what was a rather crude gesture (for goblins, anyway) and laughed. "I see why you keep him around, Stony. Makes this old cavern seem classy."
Sombra focused on what would be a simple migraine-inducing hex and tossed it through his horn in a fit of temper...only to have the spell disintegrate at the tip of his horn, sending a few sparks harmlessly off the end.
The goblin laughed even harder. "And the pointy ones get all sparkly when you piss em off? That's good gil, Stony!"
"I'd suggest you focus on dinner rather than dread, Sombra. Right now, Proferlix there could fillet you faster than he did the mushrooms." Patting a bronze-and-brass longsword tied to the back of his armor, the goblin nodded and snarfed down three tidbits at once, then belched. "Gotta compliment the cook."
Post mastication and a liberal helping of goblin breath, the dish had done little to improve Proferlix's already low charisma. Sombra looked around for a sufficiently large rock to "compliment" the offensive beast-man.
"And besides, thou shan't drop boulders on our guests, would we Lord Sombra?". Only a few small pebbles fell from the stone the unicorn had been loosening before he stopped, but one *tinged* off the goblin's mask. He looked up just in time to see the reddish glow fade from the pointed, roughly goblin-sized chunk. "Twas sure that one was for the next mendicant that insulted thine decor."
Sombra smiled. Fangs out.
"Eeehh....the deathballs are ready! Heh, heh, heh....". The meal continued, with only fungi for victims.
"Now that thine scabbards have been rattled and your belts loosened, perhaps you'd enjoy a story. It is such a pleasant story." The spirit's tone made it obvious that storytime today was mandatory.
"Once, there was a race of ponies- the proper word be "unicorn" for Lord Sombra, Proferlix - who didst have a glimmer of understanding of the realm around them. With the encouragement of two doltish little spirits, nigh every one of the greater powers found themselves quite charmed with the love and appreciation of the ponies, and the Sun and Moon invited them that they wouldst all dwell in a happy little place that the ponies would keep full of loving thoughts and insipidly cute adoration. Their sweetness, twas as addictive as it be nauseating, and so they agreed. It tainted the elements, giving them the peaceful, ordered world the ponies desired where e'er they settled as long as they didst shower the Heart with the love it craved.
Only two of us refused the foul blandishments of the Sun and Moon, but we watched as the rest settled into their cage, wrought by the power and the craft of the sisters. Mine self, being wise- and Alexandrite, being too busy looking at her own divine reflection or whatever such a vainglorious, self-righteous thing does.
And as soon as the spirits made themselves at home, they fell to the treachery of the sisters- for a bit of their power over the elements became the bailiwick of the Sun and Moon, their "caretakers". A trap, laid with the sweetest of bait! Seeing what had been done, I struck at the "Heart" to free mine fellows from their grasp- but it repulsed me.
"Only when light and darkness agree could this heart be broken!", laughed the Sun. And the Moon, being her merest crony agreed. With proper rage at their foul tricks, I struck at the Moon and cursed her- but together, they shone their thrice-damned light into the Heart and it cast me formless into the deepest parts of the world, unable to pass above until someone would make a home for me to rest in. 'Twould seem that after they defeated me, Alexandrite was soon to follow- for they made her into those trinkets, those "Elements"- hah, what an original name, the elements of an element!"
Proferlix, by this point had mostly managed to block out Jolfr's monologue in favor of fishing for a few last scraps of dinner. Sombra, while more attentive quietly stole the last bit of sobbing fungus out off Proferlix's fork and stuffed it into his cheek.
No, wait. That had been one of the peppers. The very, very, very hot peppers that had been flavoring the rest of the meal secondhand. Eyes bulging, the unicorn whinnied a bit of flame and smoke from between his lips and galloped away in search of a pool of water. A very LARGE pool of water.
"Ah, my dark rider is truly angered by my sad tale. As I did expect." ,spoke Jolfr.
A distant splash, as if a pony diving headlong into said large pool of water.
"Truly? He must have been enraged!"
Proferlix managed to hide the laugh behind his mask and a brief fit of coughing.
Deep beneath the wasteland that was the Crystal Empire, Sombra surfaced from his improvised bath. Sitting comfortably with his back against a stalagmite, Proferlix dipped the line from a fishing rod into the pool.
"Awww, and here I thought I caught myself a REAL whopper.", the armored goblin wisecracked.
"Be thou ready for more reasoned discourse, Sombra? Proferlix was here for more than thine dinner.", Jolfr's phantom voice purred, seemingly coming out of every shadow at once.
"Yeah, Stony's been a little worried about the care and feedin' of his army. Demons only eat cause they like it, but you? An' you don't have much of an army without swords, armor, supplies...". Proferlix slapped his armored belly. "Fort-un-ate-lee, when his goons chewed up all the OTHER gobbies I had with me, I made em see reason."
"By which he means he crushed them in a cunning trap.", Sombra heard Jolfr whispering. "Yeah. Reasonable. And when big dark and spooky poked his head in while I was chatting..." "Poking them with his sword.... "We had ourselves a nice little haggle."
"Proferlix's people are quite crafty. And he had his own travails. A pact was quite easy to make, one that benefits both thee and me.", Jolfr said in a more conversational volume.
"Yep. Stony here lends me his goon squads for a bit, my boys get em all nice an' scary with armor and weapons...and we clear out some annoying little flying pests from the caverns that are sitting on what should be gobbie turf. Then, my boys help Stony's clan up top. Plenty of cold, hard loot to pry from a buncha soft little "pohnies". We'll all be sittin' pretty on golden thrones in no time!"
"Tis astonishing how much goblins are willing to do for enough "shinies", Sombra.", Jolfr whispered once more.
"Oh, and don't worry. I'm throwin' in food and board and all that kinda stuff, pointy."
"The name....is Sombra."
"Yeah, pointy. Whatever you-" Proferlix was interrupted as Sombra's horn dragged him into the pool up to his neck and held him there. Weighted down by his armor, the goblin flailed and sputtered as the unicorn yanked his head below the surface.
He did not relent until the goblin's panicked flailing ceased and the last bubble of breath gurgled from beneath it's mask. Only then did the unicorn pull the limp form out of the pool and hooked it's sword belt to a protruding chunk of rock, leaving Proferlix dangling and drip-drying on the cavern wall. The sword itself, he left underwater. Shaking water out of his fur, Sombra waited patiently for the beast to revive.
Five or six minutes later, the goblin hacked up a lungful of water and screamed in terror.
"You're crazy! YOU MAD MOG-HUMPING FREAK! I'LL GUT YA! I'LL-"
The sharp length of Proferlix's sword was suddenly resting against the goblin's own throat, a stream of liquid running down the fuller of the blade. The crimson aura of Sombra's horn gave the drops of water the disturbing color of blood as they struck the floor.
"You seem to have an inflated idea of your place in the world, beast. You are a minion. My lord deems you useful. For that, you were granted the privilege of not being torn to pieces. If I find you disrespectful, if I find you useless, if I find you do not benefit MY rule with anything save your utter, total, complete obedience and effort..."
The edge dug itself ever so slightly into the goblin's windpipe, leaving Proferlix's throat burning.
"I will hack off your useless tongue and toss the rest to my Kindred for a plaything, and the next one of your kind will have your fleshless skull as a reminder to do better. ARE WE UNDERSTOOD, YOU PULING GREEN WRETCH?", Sombra roared at the cowering goblin.
"Y-yes! You's the boss! The big boss! The grandest of Greedaloxes! Whatever you say! DON'T KILL ME!"
The unicorn stared at Proferlix's mask so intently, the goblin thought he could see through it. The sword pulled back from the goblin's throat...and the goblin crashed to the ground, his belt snaking it's way through the air to coil itself across Sombra's back. The weapon floated into it's scabbard with an audible snick.
"Until I find something more fit to kill with, this peasant's weapon will suffice. Your first task is to deliver me one. Be swift. There is no place in the darkness for you to hide if you fail. GO!"
Holding up his armored leggings with one paw, Proferlix stumbled out of the cavern. A faint smell of piss marked the goblin's passing, and he was gone.
"Oh, well -done-!" Jolfr's voice oozed appreciation. "Getting yon craven to soil himself twas a nice touch."
Cowardly, greedy scum to use as fodder, nothing more. What were these pests it wanted killed?""Some creatures called "Moogles". Goblins can fight, but they're as interested in stabbing each other in the back as they are winning, and the moogles are more numerous and better organized.""Hmph. At least goblins seem to understand the proper application of fear and cruelty. First the goblins, then these "moogles" for some proper slaves. That should give us enough meat to grind into an army of conquest- one goblin would cow half a dozen ponies, one Kindred a village. Then, we can get back to decorating my throne room with dead alicorns.""Why, Sombra! Thou hast beaten me to your "welcome back from near-death" gift! Come to mine crystal, and I shall show them to thee."
Sombra's thoughts screeched to a halt. "What? One of Celestia's servants is dead? Show them to me!"
The unicorn's last bits of ill temper vanished as he galloped, replaced by elation. A fourth of his plans fulfilled before he knew it? The images of his loathed enemies broken on the cavern floor cycled through his mind's eye in a disgusting circle- Luna, the pink bitch that had nearly killed him, the purple runt...and digging his hooves into the stone, he came to a halt before Jolfr's phylactery.
"Show me! Show me!"
Wordlessly, two Kindred warriors stepped into the dim circle of light surrounding Jolfr's crystal, each bearing a gleaming statue. Settling them on their feet, the creatures returned to the darkness.
Frozen forever in crystal, Cadence and Shining Armor stood before the delighted unicorn. Cadence's face was marred by a look of despair, while Shining's bore a grim snarl of determination.
"The best part is, they're still alive in there- frozen at the moment where they realized all was lost, that their doom was upon them. Touch them. See for yourself." An ebon tendril stroked Shining Armor with the same kind of shivering joy most ponies would associate with foal-fondlers or serial cupcake killers.
Sombra laid a hoof on Cadence's horn. Suddenly, the feeling of utter loss soaked in through the contact- loss of control, loss of the love by her side, loss of her people, her Empire, her life. All was lost...lost...lost...
The unicorn drank her despair like fine wine. The endless fount of suffering left him giddy, victorious- why, this was better than killing the wench! His own pretty little alicorn, broken in spirit for eternity. Breaking off the contact, he threw his head back and laughed, with a vicious edge to the mirth that sent it cutting through the dark places to reach the rapidly retreating Proferlix. The vile sound jabbed like a steel-tipped goad to the goblin's floppy green ears, and he redoubled his panicked pace.
In his terror, he never noticed the cyclopean form of an ahriman shadowing his progress. Seeker didn't understand or care why the green thing was running faster- it just meant that it would lead the way to more, sooner. Lord Jolfr desired them for servant-slaves, that was all that mattered...
A will o' the wisp bobbled through the snaking tunnels below Tartarus, like a fallen angel ascending through the circles of Hell. The dancing wisp of aura illuminated it's horned maker, sword-clad and armored, but only stretched far enough to render massive, bat-winged shadows and outlines of the light-bearer's companions. These had no need of light- indeed, more than the witch's glow of their leader was annoying at best, painful at worst.
Save for the occasional rasp of skin against rock and the tapping of Sombra's stony hooves against the tunnel floor, words were an un-needed luxury as well. At least, spoken ones. The unicorn conversed with his master as nearly twoscore Kindred followed the trail Seeker had laid along a goblin march.
"So, what you are saying is that nearly every civilized spell has dropped straight into the glue pot.", Sombra's mind reaching into the black blot he felt hovering inside his soul.
"Belike those spells have developed a....temper, aye.", Jolfr replied. "Wild, feral even. There be a change in the air that has spread from above to below, something so small twas hard for mine ahriman's keenest eye to espy, even when we had light. A dust that feeds on conjury, breaking the spell asunder- or worse, a spell will give unexpected, raw life. Should it find a strong source of magic to feed upon, it grows into crystals that chain the magic it devours. Too much magic, and... A vision of what seemed to be a hovering black hole orbited about the crystal binding Jolfr's form, until an irritated Kindred attempted to smash the vortex to bits. The vortex responded by lashing out with...
"Is that thing using SPELLS?", Sombra thought in disbelief as the vortex first grew ebon spikes that sucked life from the angry demon pummeling it with it's fists, then proceeded to harass the beast with a hail of vitality and mana-draining magics, all the while spinning it's edges to gouge at it's attacker. Half a dozen more Kindred ganged up on the thing until the dark energies gave out with a visible implosion, leaving a cluster of crystals that rather resembled Jolfr himself, filled with inky power.
"Surely so. Mine creatures resist dark magics, being mostly darkness-wrought themselves, but... The first demon looked visibly damaged, a webwork of missing chunks oozing a tarry fluid from it's abraded skin. "...twas harder to harm it, than it was to harm mine. And they find mine presence....attractive. The things live, Sombra. Dim and with nary a thought in their little crystal cores, but life. And magic. Pure, elemental magic. E'en as it be natural for thine horn to lift things, it does seem these "elementals" conjure. And tis' on such raw power they feed. Watch." In Sombra's mental "eye", the darkness-beyond-darkness that was Jolfr's natural state withdrew as it was gathered inwards, becoming nothing more than a congealed blot at the center of the spirit's home-stone. Another of the vortices ceased it's wandering across the cave, shuddered and began to crumble- then vanished, it's core returning to dust as the shadows around it faded.
"So, they latch onto you like a tick, do they? If these things can use magic, I will learn how they use it- one stony little cluster of crystal at a time. They do you no harm?"
"They harm none- unless someone be fool enough to attempt spells near it. Then, they attack, much like wild spells oft do- and as thou hast seen, they defend themselves if struck. The view flickered to the surface, an icy plain strewn of snow-covered bits of crystal. Floating above the ground was another crystal-cored elemental, but six frozen prisms formed a body much like a child's jack, with a bluish center-cluster. "Strong enough weather seems to stir them as well- when mine Kindred fetched thee those statues, these appeared about the ruins when the storms came. And instead of darkness, they spin..."
"Ice, of course. This is a sign, Jolfr. Crystals are power. These elementals are crystals, magic...", Sombra licked his lips as if savoring a sweet, "the key to victory. The first to learn the lessons of magic will be the one who steps on the neck of those who fail to pass it's test...and I will be the first. Unicorns were the masters of magic, and a unicorn shall be the first master of the new magics...me."
With a nearly inaudible hiss, Seeker's one-eyed form slid out around the curve of the tunnel ahead and held up a paw, halting the advance of it's larger kin.
"Soon, Seeker. You may have it's skull when the time is right and it has done our work for us. Kindred!"
The glowing gaze of nearly two dozen Kindred warriors swiveled to focus on the relatively diminutive quadruped in their midst.
"Advance with me. Kill anything that is foolish enough to attack and make it suffer, but slaughter them not without cause. We come to take slaves and break wills, not useless corpses. Seeker, point out anything stupid enough to think it can hide and ambush our warriors."
Sombra's blade sang as it cleared the scabbard, the weight a solid heft in the unicorn's fist of willpower. Walking forward, the beasts formed ranks around the floating blade, bringing their own more ponderous weapons to point.
"For the glory of Sombra! BOW AND BE BROKEN!"
Rumbling like an avalanche, the horde galloped into their first assault on goblin civilization.
The good news, when one is invading the home of a goblin clan, is that going in through one of the numerous "back doors" means one meets surprisingly few goblins at first. The bad news is that goblins are quite fond of keeping their pets there instead.
The air around Sombra's invasion force filled with chittering, squeaking bats as the noisy tromping distrubed the entire flock. While more interested in leaving than biting, the winged rodents managed to utterly ruin any hope of surprise as they left irritated warriors slapping the stone walls and each other in an effort to swat the nuisances out of the way. Sombra himself laid about with the flat of his sword, mostly managing to keep a bit of clear space free of furry missiles dive-bombing his horn.
"So much for simple terror...", thought the unicorn as one of his warriors managed to backhand another through a limestone pillar. Switching to cracking the broadside of his weapon across the skulls and backs of thrashing minions, order restored itself a few minutes after the last of the bats swirled into the tunnels below. Seeker rolled it's massive eye and spit out a fuzzy wing it'd been gnawing on.
"Woooould fiiiind goblinthings, buuuuuut...", as it pointed towards the far end of the cavern.
A double line of armored and crossbow-wielding goblins stood blocking the way, pointing their weapons with the professional's stance that says "open for business, meat ground here".
"...aaaaaalreeeaaady heeeerrre."
"Perfect.", thought Sombra.
A familiar form hopped up and down angrily behind the ranks.
"That's the horny demon that took my sword! He's straight from Tartarus, he is! Kill em, shoot em dead, blow him fulla holes!", Proferlix screeched.
Sombra took the moment to step to the front.
"So, is HE in charge? What was his name....Piddlelix? I could follow him for a league as long as I was downwind."
Some of the weapons wavered as their owners tried not to laugh. A few failed, elbowing their mates.
"He was weak enough to call me boss and stupid enough to try and make a deal behind your backs. He tried to screw you out of as much of the wealth as he could while thinking we would put him in charge. He tried to treat me like a child. Pathetic."
The swordbelt around Sombra's shoulders tore itself free to skid across the gravel and guano-covered floor, coming to a halt just before the front line of goblin swords and axes. Proferlix's blade slid an inch out of the scabbard
"Here's his sword back. I came to find better. Better steel, better goblins, ones that have enough brains to make a real deal and not have their sword taken without breaking a sweat. He trades like a moogle and he wets his bed like one too."
More laughter. Proferlix stopped hopping and stared hot death at Sombra through his mask.
"I came for goblins that can smell the gold in your teeth in a minute and pry it out the next. Goblins that want to be be bosses. Greedy goblins. Goblins that want to take over everything they see, then look for more so they can take it too. Crafty goblins. The ones that can make me a sword as long as I am, armor that fits my mountains here-", Sombra gestured to the Kindred looming behind him, "-so I can crush and break anyone stupid enough not to want it done MY way.". Not a spark of magic was in his eyes or words, and yet Sombra had the crowd of goblins enthralled.
All but one.
"WHATTA LOAD OF LIZARD CRAP!", Proferlix spat and hurled a hissing, smoking ball of iron at Sombra's face.
Sombra effortlessly flung the orb back at Proferlix with his horn, jamming it into the goblin's breastplate and sending him rolling down the tunnel. The goblin managed one, final squawk of frustration and denial as the two found a resting place.
The resting place was also final. With a somewhat muffled detonation, the goblin bomb disintergrated most of Proferlix into a greasy burn mark on the floor, leaving his head to fly back in a tumble. It hit the ground at Sombra's feet with an audible CLACK, the dead jaws clipping off the goblin's tongue before sending the smoking helm rolling into the Kindred ranks.
The demons proceeded to amuse themselves with a bit of goblin skullball. The goblins simply stared at the grisly spectacle.
"Oh, look. Someone stupid enough not to do it my way. Now, do I have myself some tough, crafty, greedy rich minons or do I have more skulls for my OTHER minons to play with?"
Sombra welcomed his first goblin mercenaries to the Shadow Kingdom with open hooves. In two days, he had dozens of goblins scavenging the ruins of the Empire for gold, gems, and whatever scraps of wealth had survived the apocalypse. Two weeks after that, four neighboring clans had added themselves to the ranks- three without bloodshed, one that was stupid enough to resist and ended up "joining" with only those too old or too young to fight.
The rest of the clan decorated Sombra's new throne room as empty masks and helmets. What other remains had gone to feed the cave fish, and rumors of the horned demon lord that had come from below began to spread far and wide...and had come to rule. The demon spent his time studying magical crystals and communing with evil spirits when not leading goblins to deep veins of metal to forge, or to pillage the icy tombs of other "pohnee" demons for their strange treasures.
Many awaited the demon's coming. Dark and hungry goblins, awaiting the call to cruelty and the riches they could squeeze from the weak-and the moogles, who peered fearfully from their borders, wondering when the beast would stalk their tunnels and how they could stop it...with a few of both races who only prepared for the wisest course- to escape the iron chains of the Shadow King.
Normally, King Sombra (as he had styled himself once again) appreciated the fine results of heads, piled neatly before his throne with expressions of terror and horror on them.
These were not neat, nor pleasing, although they did certainly look like they'd been terrified before being mashed into a rough ball along with the rest of the goblin mining crew in question. His mining crew. Which Seeker had rolled into his throne room like some kind of creepy game.
A few random pieces of debris unstuck themselves from the oozing sphere to the floor.
"Seeker, explain why you've just deposited ten very dead gobins before the throne. I have told you before. No gore in the throne room!"
"Issss sooory Soooombra. Waaaahss noooote. Hasss misssed meaaal. Reeeaaaaaad.", the ahriman replied and pinned the note on Shining Armor's crystalline horn. The black unicorn studied the slightly bloodied parchment, written in a measured, even hand.
Moblin tunnel. Trespassers will be mashed. No exceptions.
Megomek
Please deliver this to whoever was stupid enough to send these goblins into a moblin tunnel.
Sombra's face developed an almost imperceptable twitch.
"What....is....a moblin."
Seeker, in it's impeccable sense of impending doom had left the immediate area with it's goblin goosh ball. A distant crunching sound could tell the observant it was both getting dinner and disposal done at the same time. One of the less observant goblin cronies that remained answered.
"Dey's really WEIRD goblins, boss! Ya never see em, they live deeper than deep an' nobody bothers em. Cause they got giant monsters and contraptiony-thingies."
"And none of you saw fit to tell me this." Twitch. Twitch.
"I told ya, NOBODY bothers the moblins!"
The goblin suffered a sudden case of "I've had the life drained from my body"-itis as Sombra thoughtlessly tore the soul out of the unfortunate speaker. The withered mannikin that used to be said goblin fell to the floor, bits of now-loose armor spilling in all directions.
"These "moblins" vex me. And nothing in these caverns will do so and go unpunished. Who will tell me more about this "Megomak" and his monsters before I am vexed further?"
One goblin was foolish enough to run out the nearest exit instead. They found themselves unceremoniously hurled back into the throne room by the Kindred doorwarden, skidding to a halt before the royal dais.
"Ahh. We have a volunteer." The goblin, flailing in her padded jack found itself floating face to face with the monarch. "And who is my soothsaying young lady-goblin today, hmm?" "B-b-b-rassilox!" "Excellent. You look like a brave creature."
The king politely waited for Brassilox's teeth to shop chattering in abject terror.
"You will make an excellent envoy, Brassilox." A brass-tipped pen dipped it's nib into a floating inkwell, then scratched out a message on a piece of fine moogle-skin vellum. "Extend an invitation to this Megomek to visit my kingdom, by which I mean you will not return until he does so.". Sombra glowered at the shivering she-gob as the scroll rolled itself up neatly, was sealed, and deposited in her bag.
"I trust you will return in one piece. Seeker already has clear instructions on what to do if you don't."
The ahriman burped out a rivet that might have belonged to a goblin's helm before it was mashed between a pair of rather vicelike, fanged jaws as it flew back into the room, somewhat rounder than when it departed.
"Seeker, take my envoy to the Moblins to the tunnel where you found dinner. DO make sure she gets down there quickly."
Brassilox managed to squeak out only an incoherent noise behind her mask before Seeker had snatched her in it's claws and flew downwards, into the lowest boundaries of the kingdom's tunnels. Rocks and walls became blurry shadows as Seeker half-flew, half-dove into the descent, dropping into vertical shafts and twisting through stinking holes that Brassilox would have sworn were fit only for bat warrens. A long trek for a goblin fluttered by in a matter of minutes, and her ride lowered her with precision to a sticky patch of rock. Digging out a torch, she lit the landing site with a dim (by non-goblin standards), smoky light.
Seeker had dropped her squarely in a rather large patch of mostly-dry gore, a trail of which could be seen heading upwards.
"Ummmm...thank ya. I think.", Brassilox replied, and checked over her bag and gear. A gobbie girl did -not- go out without her bag, after all. Some other gobbie would just take whatever happened not to be nailed down and sell it back for twice the price! A decent sized blade, good for letting some air out of a pain in the rear or trimming a bat for dinner both. A holder for her lens caps, which she popped off the front of her mask to reveal the almost clear layer of glass below. That stupid demon always kept his room too bright...snacks, tools (like she'd let THOSE out of her sight, either), and the inevitable jumble of found bits, scavenged bits, and how-did-that-end-up-in-here things that every goblin accumulated, much like the pockets of children of any intelligent species you care to meet. She looked around the floor for good measure.
It had been picked clean, and at least in one place -licked- clean to pry something stuck off the floor. Definitely goblins.
"So, if I scream ya ain't gonna come get me, right?"
"Seeeeeker seeeervvves. Noooooott sssstuuuupid."
"Atta-beastie. Thinkin' like a gobbie. I'd bribe ya like one, but I like bein' not-dinner more." And with that, she took exactly one step into the tunnel and bellowed. "HEEEEEEEEEEY! THERE'S A GORGEOUS GOB UP HERE AND I'M LOOKIN FOR SOME MOBLIN LOVE MACHINES! YA GOT ANY DOWN THERE?" The response was the rapid pounding of VERY large feet as they rushed up towards the call. From the darkness of a tunnel, a single massive hand reached out to slap Brassilox into the floor. Almost casually, she stepped back out.
"Aw, for crying out loud! Ain't you a little old to play "bait the bugbear"...um...lady?"
Brassilox adjusted her mask in a fetching manner, a hint of what was either hair or wire escaping from under the neck join. "We-lllll...I had this little problem..." as she jerked a thumb back at the flapping maw of Seeker, now staring in confusion.
The moblin didn't even think twice, sweeping his staff up to point at the ahriman. "BUGGALUMP! SQUASH!"
The bugbear turned, roared and lumbered forward with the clear intention of turning Seeker into a pasty smear on the wall. Unprepared for the sudden assault, the demon flapped for dear life for the nearest ceiling hole, narrowly avoiding being snagged in one massive first. Frustrated, Buggalump tore a chunk of rock from the tunnel wall and hurled it into the hole, plugging it with the resulting avalanche of debris. An ominous rumble marked he'd managed to probably ruin the integrity of the roof as well, punctuated with pointed bits of stones beginning to rain down.
"So much for THAT freak, miss. How'd something that nasty sneak all the way down here, miss...?", the moblin said.
"Brassilox, you heroic he-hunk. I think he wanted to use me as bait, that horrible, horrible thing!", Brassilox answered. Serves it right if there's a few rocks stuck in it's rear for wanting me to walk into a moblin tunnel alone, too.
A pumpkin-sized boulder bounced off Buggalump's head. The mutant whined at the impact and began to dance in place.
"Well, lady...yer in good hands. I'm Brikabraq, that's Buggalump and you're...", was that her SOCK I just saw her pulling up? In PUBLIC? "um..."
The she-gob cut to the chase as the love-dazed white-knight of a moblin tried to make small talk. "About to be between a rock and a hard bugbear place. Can we find someplace a little more tunnely and a little less "crush me like an empty can? Maybe talk for a while? I mean, I'm all alone here and you look like you've been alone here for a while, cutie." I can smell the acne from here, ugh... "The only place to go is your tunnel, but it's a moblin one, and all this BLOOD..."
A loose gear in Brikabraq's head suddenly engaged. "Ooooooooooh! Buggalump!" He pointed the stick at Brassilox. "Goblin! Good goblin! Friend! Recognize!" The bugbear's four eyes turned to focus on Brassilox's form, staring. "Return! Guard!" The giant creature squeezed back into the tunnel, returning to it's post at the bottom. Hand in hand, Brikabraq and Brassilox followed, chatting as the cavern gradually collapsed behind them into an impenetrable jumble of stone...
"And yeah, that's how ya get stupid shroom heads in yer tunnel there. Cause freaky horn-head and his bat-winged buddies shook everybody down and now he thinks he's the Boss of Bosses. Definitely NOT a gobbie, but he's too mean to be anything a moogle thought up.", Brassilox small-talked. A little gossip after all that was good for the soul, and besides that, the average moblin took her week-old stale dirt like it was fresh-fried fish with funguar fingers on the side. Comes from spending too much time with bugbears, ya know?
"You think...he's one of them Tartarus monsters?", Brikabraq gasped. "I mean, you said that all the seals came off and that sounds kind of monster-y."
"Nah, he keeps talkin' about "taking over the surface" and junk like that. Apparently it's some kinda big deal to Sombra, and the gobbies what been up there say he's right. He sent some scroungers up a tunnel "to the surface world" and they came down with a TON of good junk, scrap, and it's like the HUGEST cavern ever. I mean, he don't know a pretty mask if he put it on and wore it, but he's a Greedalox through and through. Mebbe the greediest Greedalox ever. "Crystals" here, and "magic" there, and-"
Brikabraq interrupted. "Crystals? Like, really glowy, growing veins of crystals? You have GOT to see this.", and dug a fist-sized, red-glowing prism out of a random pocket. The she-gob was unimpressed.
"Yeah, them. Hornhead likes playin' with em, but ain't nothin' a gobbie can do with those things." -and Brassilox ran a finger "accidentally" just under his glove, the bat-wing leather grazing bare skin.
"Uh-uh! Oh, can you EVER do things with these!". Brikabraq rushed to say, and started yanking bits of rock out to go with the crystal.
"Okay, ya got four hunks of copper ore and a shiny rock. Whatcha gonna do with em?"
And with that, Brikabraq picked up the crystal, hefted it carefully, and flipped it into the air. Where it stayed, floating a few inches above the ground. The stone lit up, filling the tunnel with a flaming aura that plucked the chunks of ore off the ground to orbit the burning bit of magicite. Brikabraq fixed his eyes on the crystal, clearly concentrating- and the red energy formed a globe that swallowed the ore and hissed as it digested the metal-flecked bits of rock.
With a *FWOMPH*, the globe vanished- and left behind a slightly deformed but pure ingot of copper. The moblin hefted it and grunted, then pulled a green twin to the red crystal.
"I'm pretty good with this "magic" stuff, but this one's tougher....", and let the second crystal awaken in his gloves. Where the red one had been a flaming aura, this one spread the taste of fresh air as it sent a miniature hurricane in being, one that filled a greenish globe with wind and the shape of the chunk of copper as it floated into the resulting portable storm.
The globe shattered to reveal the crumbling crystal and the ingot, which dropped back to the tunnel floor with an audible *KLONK*.
"Okay, so you can do SOMETHIN' with a crystal. Melting ore's pretty handy, yeah..."
"No, wait!" Brikabraq blurted out. "One more, really-really-one more!" as he dug a second green stone from his pack and hastily set the crystal alight. "Just got to see it, all right, okay, come ON!"
The whistling globe imploded, leaving a small shining object behind that the moblin handed over to Brassilox without delay.
"I thought you'd be the kind of gobbie girl that'd appreciate something like this."
The metal-formed image of a copper bat, wings spread wide open- with a craftsmanlike clip on the back.
"It's for your hai- I mean your mask, cause you'd look pretty with some copper to go with all that shiny brass you got going on."
Brassilox's opinion of the moblin had improved considerably inside of three crystals, two minutes, and one incredibly useful moblin trade secret.
"It ain't bad. Maybe I might wear it a little bit. T'anks!", and with that she clipped the bat onto a mask strap, where it indeed did a decent job of covering over that worn spot where the leather was starting to look a bit shabby. As the mask-pin settled, she could feel something odd...the metal conducting something that left her feeling the faintest bit lightheaded and..."open" to something else. She plunked down, trying to get a grip on the change.
Sitting there, the feeling passed in a minute as the "empty" bit filled up. Brikabraq helped the goblin back to her feet.
"Crystal-made stuff can do that, Brassilox- rings and hairpins and stuff can make you feel a little funny at first. Megomak's got every moblin learning how to do it- says it's the world blessing moblins with magic powers for being so hardworking so we can dig even further."
And with that, the tunnel opened wide into a massive cavern, mazed with platforms and metal catwalks and islands of stone. Glimmers of crystalline magic could be seen blinking on and off as moblins worked in the distance, mixed with the more conventional sparks and smoke of traditional gobbie-style alchemy and construction. Quickly, the sounds of industry filled Brassilox's earholes and she dug out her smoked lenses to pop back into place.
"YOU HAD GOOD TIMING!", Brikabraq shouted as the trio went past a bugbear pounding a metal patch plate into place. "WE'RE MOVING IN TWO DAYS TO GET NEAR A BIG LINE OF THESE CRYSTALS!". The platform ended in a gate with a hole in it that smelled slightly of burnt ash and combustion. The moblin dug out a bag full of grey-flecked granules and carefully weighed it. "Gotta have just the right bang or...", and with that, he tossed the offering into the hole. *BLAM!* went the hole as it spat out a cloud of smoke and something shifted from the blast. The gate *clicked* and slid open quietly on a pivot. "...we wouldn't get to visit."
"Um, how are we just strollin' in here? Ain't he a little worried about random moblins wandering around and maybe borrowing his stuff?"
"Well, two things on that. One, he only tells the right amount of firesand to family to open the gate. Two..."
*SNURF* "YOU BRING GOBBIE GIRL IN HOUSE AGAIN?"
"...house troll."
"Hey, what's he mean AGAIN?"
"LAST GOBBIE DUMB AND TOOK SHINY. GURDERPUR POLISH FLOOR WITH FACE. SCREAMED LIKE LITTLE GIRL."
"Yah?...oh."
"Rule number one for guests. Don't call him Derpy. He uses the ones who do for dusting the ceiling. Gurderpur, would you take Buggalump to his kennel for dinner?"
"WILL REMEMBER EXTRA LUMPY KIBBLE IF GOOD. COME, BUGGALUMP. DIN-DIN."
"Thank you, Gurderpur."
The two behemoths stomped off into a dim side tunnel and vanished. "Ready for me to introduce you to Great-Uncle Megomak, Martial Meister and Magical Materials Mechanic for Movapolos Station #4? He's been after me to find a girlfriend for months."
"WaitasechowGIRLFRIEND?"
"Well, you ARE wearing my thing. And it's family only in here." Brikabraq nodded knowingly. "I mean, if Megomak found someone who WASN'T family in here, he'd have Gurderpur use them for light caverncleaning. How good are you at polishing brassware, Brassilox? Hee, hee, hee..."
Out of the fire and into the fireworks factory...while still on fire.
"I'm ready ta be right by yer side the whole time, lil' puffball.", Brassilox surrendered.
As peaceful, non-violent creatures went, this had been a lousy month. First, the ancient barriers vanishing in every direction, loosing horrid beasts to wander the tunnels. Most had thankfully preferred "away" from the Moogle Kingdom, and those that hadn't found that moogle wards were quite enough to keep their bellies empty and their rampages directed elsewhere.
The wards, and most of the moogle's magical might had melted into a melange of miserable mineral materialization less than a week afterwards. At the same time, terrified goblins had been literally throwing themselves into the openings, babbling about a "horned demon" that had terrorized or enthralled every goblin within it's reach when it crawled out of the tunnels, sending it's huge bugbear-sized brethren to bite bigger and bigger bits of the buffer between moogle and monstrous "King". They had barely the attention span to even attempt the occasional swindle in their desire to be anywhere but near "Sombra".
A few of King Kupofried's subjects had been too curious or too unlucky and had gone missing in all the chaos as well. As the circle of Royal Advisors continued to utter variations on "We're doomed", the brass-lined crown atop the monarchical Moogle's noggin dragged him another inch lower towards the floor.
Kupofried had always hated the crown, a traditional icon of the royal line handed down without amendment from one Kupofried to the next, topped with it's royal purple cap that liked to sneak down every time he furrowed his brow until the metal rim bopped him square on the bridge of his button nose.
*bop*, the crown responded in it's timely manner as it once again dipped to smack him in a now-sore spot, leaving his eyes covered and watering into the velvety cloth.
King Kupofried the Thirty-Fourth, August of His Line tore the offending object from his head, giving the serene orange pom a painful yank in the process. He squeaked in royal miff and hurled the thing to the floor, the muffled *clink* of the impact actually managing to get the attention of the entire room of advisors.
"You THREW SOMETHING!", said one greying old Moogle. Another fainted at the sight of the terrible scuff left in the well polished stone floor.
Kupofried had been quite a wrathful king by Moogle standards. He frequently raised his voice, even as a little Moogling and was famed for his harsh treatment of deceitful subjects, once confining someone to their room for three days and forbidding them care packages the entire time for making pointy sticks. That the Moogle had insisted they were for picking his teeth went unheard. If one needed to get something out of one's teeth, that was what magic is for.
"We. Have. Had. ENOUGH!", his Majesty uttered in a high-pitched, adorably infuriated tone that would have caused most ponies to cuddle the enraged monarch while squeeing uncontrollably. Such was the power of the Royal Moogle Voice. With visible effort, he hefted a bag of coin in his pudgy little arms and managed to send it sliding across the floor into a shady corner.
A gloved hand plucked the treasure from it's hidden nook.
"Ya got yourself a deal, Mistah Kupo...a real good deal. We'll take ya out our little gobbie getaway holes and ain't nobody gonna know down below. Take whatever ya can carry and we're vamoosing. Ya know the time. Don't be late, or ya get to see all da fireworks!", said the goblin.
The iron balls strapped on every exposed inch of his harness clanked, promising a one-goblin show that would rival Canterlot royal weddings for sheer flash and bang.
"Combustix's gotta make the magics. Youse moogles better grab yer swag."
Most of the moogles remained frozen in abject fear at the walking, talking bomb that had appeared in their midst.
"BOO!", Combustix shouted, letting his payload rattle and klink.
The room cleared with admirable haste, save for the goblin and the Moogle king.
"We have had them packing every satchel and bag since you came to me with your offer, Combustix. Go.", spoke the moogle with all the gravitas of a helium-filled balloon.
The goblin nodded and melted back into the corner without a sound.
Kupofried slung a satchel over his shoulder and floated out of the room, leaving only the crown to mark his passing. What good is a crown without it's kingdom, after all?
---
One foreleg propped against each of his throne's pony-shaped arm-rests, Sombra listened to yet another distant rumble of thunder echoing down the tunnels. Balefire licked at the edges of his eyes as his hooves reflexively stroked the stony backs of Cadence and Shining and tried, mostly successfully to keep from twitching with irritation. Goblins boiled in a sea of chaos, gangs running to brace sagging tunnels and cracked roofs torn open by the obliteration of what had been the Moogle warrens, setting off a chain reaction that had reduced even parts of the goblin tunnels to so many mixes of bloody paste and pebbles.
A stream of powdered rock sifted from the ceiling and was given a royal sneeze as it found it's way into the unicorn's nose.
CRACK!
A swarm of stony fragments stabbed from the dark above, razor-sharp pieces sending the crowd fleeing in every direction.
Sombra merely gestured with his horned head.
Ethereal energy coalesced into shining prisms of force around his subjects, deflecting the missiles like steel plate. A swirl of muddy light pooled around him, and the annoying dust suddenly became no more than a distant tingle against his senses. The panic faded as quickly as it came, goggled eyes staring in awe at the calm, disdainful presence that ruled in their midst.
A spark of distaste tickled under Sombra's hoof from the crystalline stallion.
"Good.", he thought as he casually crushed the distant bit of empathy under his will. The best slaves were the resentful but obedient ones, and the two ponies literally underhoof were both. Petrified into magicite, the two were helpless to resist whoever possessed them...and as Sombra had killed and ravaged, the suffering had unlocked deeper and deeper magical secrets from both, an understanding of spells that were stable in the scrambled aether of the new world filtered through their frozen forms by the bloody experience he had torn from death and murder. Power. Crystals. Slaves.
These WERE his favorite things. All in one lovely package. So what if the moogles and a few goblins had escaped? Let them spread his name to the ponies above, along with the fear. There were other ways to the surface, an army of beasts to send forth to gather his rightful tributes in flesh and magic, golden bits and the sweet tears of broken mares.
And what, perhaps would that little purple alicorn witch yield if he made her into a new decorative statue? Luna? Celestia? A thousand years of making them taste his cruelty, unable to close their eyes to his eternal rule? Yes. That would only be fitting.
In the stygian chamber below Sombra, an even deeper blackness swirled in it's home.
"He is every bit the monster I desired, a whetstone to sharpen the ponies with hardship and suffering, to teach them that the world is no illusion of peace. No more softness, no more coddling the life on this world like so many wet-eared whelps."
The thoughts that Jolfr kept remained silent, but lacked the malice of his servant.
"E'en after so many years, they have made them like children, never knowing what is to come for fear of ruining their happiness. Little ponies, dancing around their sunny meadows without a care for the wolf waiting to devour all, and while we slept, they have charmed the rest into dancing to their merry tunes. Let them hate Sombra, fear me, if it will make them ready for what is to come."
"A time of shadow, so that the light will shine bright enough to keep what is truly dark at bay forever."
