The Ironside Underside

[Red Charge]

For the fourth time, the Tenacious Trio, or was it the Terrible Triangle? Team Terror? Had to turn and backtrack to another intersection. It was impossible to keep track of what name they had, as the Slayer\Enchanter\Alchemist 'project' was being constantly renamed by their charismatic, if somewhat devilish alchemist.

"Tormented Terradivers." Lucky Drops muttered, "No, that sounds horrible." The potion totting unicorn bit his lip nervously. Of course one can always count on the military to send a pony with claustrophobia down into an ancient collapsed mining complex. By some grace of Harmony, the alchemist was able to keep his wits so far, despite the group running into one collapsed path after the other.

The leader of the rather unorthodox squad, a heavy set masculine female unicorn named Max Force, or 'Buff-Puff', if you asked Lucky, was growing more irritable by the moment. Big mare like her did not like the closed environment, or the dwindling supply of air, or the fact that she had to babysit two stallions who she sometimes honestly thought were trying to out-goof each other.

"Well one thing's for sure. No one builds like griffons do. I'm surprised we got as far as we did." She said, her voice muffled behind her gas mask. She turned her head back, squinting past the glowing runes on her armor and the lights on her companions' gas masks to try and see them in the dark.

Right now the claustrophobic alchemist was leaning against his compatriot, one particularly sour faced enchanter, to the point where one could almost think he was gravely injured. But in truth, the shaking, sweating unicorn was just terrified of the dark and choking labyrinth.

She gave a little smirk behind her mask, which was fortunately invisible to the others. Not that she enjoyed having one of her companions be a possible flight risk, but it was quite refreshing in comparison to Lucky's happy-go... well, Lucky demeanor. Where the unicorn was usually confident, smiling and making dumb jokes, he was now breathing quickly, wide, terror stricken eyes darting across the walls and ceiling. But he came, he was doing his duty to his country and he was facing his fear head on. Maybe there was something to him after all.

"Ah, there we go." The fearless female unicorn said after a while more of walking, finally reaching a shaft leading straight down. Looks like there used to be an elevator there, however unfortunately, the mechanism to raise it was nowhere in sight. "Great. Guess we need to go down the hard way. Lucky, slow-fall potion."

The Alchemist used his magic to levitate three vials from his uncomfortably located inner thigh pouch. Yes, because pressing her lips to a vial that was pressed and constantly rubbing between the stallion's legs was exactly what the Slayer wanted to do right now. She almost tipped it over to pour it into her mouth when she realized she was wearing a gas mask. Then she rolled her eyes at her own carelessness and unscrewed the sealed cap for the straw appendage of her mask, slurping up the contents of the vial and praying he made his potion correctly. "I'll go first, follow me. Fantasy... hold the baby on the way down, don't want him passing out." The mare's final words echoed in the corridor behind them, but she did not proceed. If Lucky's potion didn't work and she had to cast magic on herself she could expose them and ruin the entire mission.

With a sigh the mare took one step forwards and hopped into the shaft, falling heavily through it. Yep she was doomed.

Max closed her eyes tightly and braced for impact, hanging tightly to her last happy memory when she suddenly felt as though a fierce gust had struck her from below, slowing her fall. Oh thank Harmony, it was working.She landed softly on her hoof, breathing a sigh of relief. She knocked 'shave and a haircut' on the metal supports of the shaft, the sound carrying upwards towards the other two, to let them know it was safe to come down.

Lucky Drops however, was already on top of Fantasy Script, hugging his neck tightly. Seemed like they were in this situation far more often than one would expect. But at his current state, letting the poor alchemist jump the shaft on his own would probably make his head explode with stress.

[Fantasy Script]

It was surprising, in Fantasy Script’s humble opinion, what you can get used to if you endure long enough. The enchanter felt well and truly sorry for his male companion. The alchemist was flat out terrified and only one jump-scare away from bolting. Still he was with them, deep down in the darkness, that was something to respect. Keeping all that in mind, the constant twitches, whimpers and the almost hysteria that cloaked Lucky Drops was starting to wear Script’s nerves down as well.

He wasn’t claustrophobic, not really, the low visibility bothered him much more, mostly because his strained nerves saw a foe in every twitching shadow and revealed rock. Script wasn’t claustrophobic, but it was very much likely that by the end of this, Lucky and he would be one pony. At least Lucky seemed very much intent to achieve said goal, considering how hard he pressed himself against the stallion.

But the alchemist was terrified, and Script was his friend. At least, he thought of himself as Lucky’s friend. And as Lucky’s friend he got used to the way the twitching alchemist clung to his side. And the terrible alliterations Lucky came up with to describe their team were somewhat amusing. At least they had been at first. By now Script was half tempted to smother the muttering alchemist, just to get some peace of mind.

The enchanter reminded himself firmly that Lucky was still terrified and likely doing this to take his mind off the fact that they were deep underground, with one collapsed dead end after the other revealed in the glow of their lanterns. It was understandable. Really it was. And so, Script got used to the shivering presence pressed into his flank. He got used to the sub audible mutterings coming from his side. At least he told himself he got used to it. Had he bothered to ask his frayed nerves they would have disabused him of such a ridiculous notion.

Fantasy Script was very tense.

He almost – Almost! – jumped out of his skin when Max finally spoke after the long bout of silence. Silently he watched the mare slurp the potion and followed suit shortly afterwards. He made doubly sure that Lucky also drank his.

Wouldn’t do for the alchemist to go splat because he forgot the simplest things in his panic.

Of course as soon as he felt the almost familiar weight of the other pony on his back he knew this precaution now also meant that he wouldn’t go splat. Moving Lucky around on his back as much as he could, the death grip on his neck complicating things minimally, Script gave the shaft a long distrusting look. He heard the signal and sighed.

“Got a good grip buddy?”

He gave the shaft another look.

“On three.”

He counted quickly up and took the plunge. He prayed to the princess that the potion would do its work. He prayed to the princess that it didn’t matter that Lucky was all but glued to his back. He prayed to the princess that Max was smart enough to step away. But most of all, Script prayed.

The air rushed past his ears as he fell.

[Red Charge]

Lucky wasn't paying much attention as Fantasy Script hopped off the ledge and began falling like a rock towards the button. He was very busy asking himself how come he still had a vial of slow-fall potion sticking out from his pouch. Oh... wait... "Uh... Fantasyyyyyyyyyyyyy.....!" He began to scream as instantaneously his skin began growing a thick layer of iron rich, metallic carapace, tearing apart the walls of the shaft as the magnetic properties of the carapace attracted the iron straight out of the veins, leaving the alchemist as a large, unicorn shaped hunk of red metal. The shift in weight immediately caused the two ponies to flip around, with Lucky on the bottom and Fantasy on the top.

"Oh for crying out..." Max exclaimed wearily, quickly moving away from the shaft and casting a cushioning spell at the bottom, or at least, trying too. She knew the spell, she just barely ever used it. The ground was now glowing, which was a good sign, she hoped? If the spell served its purpose, hopefully neither of them would get hurt. But she knew better than to expect a good outcome when it came to those two. But she hoped. Hope is all she had with these two.

As soon as Fantasy felt the slow-fall potion take effect it was obvious he was in trouble, but it was far too late to do anything about it. Lucky Drops was now far too heavy and while the slow-fall slowed Fantasy's descent, Lucky drops' continued unaffected. A terrible grating sensation told the enchanter that Lucky's hooves scraped his sides, though fortunately not hard enough to damage any major blood vessel, but it sure was painful. If that alone wasn't enough, it also sent Fantasy into a slow, but nauseating spin. When he landed he was dizzy and sore. Which way was the ceiling and which way was the floor? With all the dust Fantasy couldn't even tell. He had to take an educated guess, which led to him firmly planting his face into the ground, his gas mask letting out an odd 'thunk' of protest.

When his vision stabilized, the northern unicorn could see his alchemist friend was buried a few inches into the ground and was not moving. It was almost comical, if it wasn't so terrifying. Max Force was reeling from the dust cloud still, and had no time to inspect him.

"Crazy alchemist... what happened?" The slayer demanded, desperately trying to wipe the dust off of her gasmask's goggles. She wasn't even sure which direction the shaft was in now. All she did know, is that they made a LOT of noise and she now had one, possibly two ponies injured and they haven't even gotten started yet.

[Fantasy Script]

There are very few things, Script decided, that you want to hear when you’re plummeting down a dark shaft, with only a potion in your belly as your safety net. ‘Uh’ certainly wasn’t on the list of things he wanted to hear. Indeed ‘Uh’ was about the last thing he wanted to hear, grunted right into his ear.

When iron particles came flying towards them and attached themselves to Lucky’s skin, Script got decidedly nervous. He could feel the skin of his partner grow more metallic the longer the effect of whatever brew Lucky had ingested persisted. Then the gust of air pushed him upwards while Lucky’s iron form kept falling faster. Script swallowed a grunt of pain as the pony’s iron covered hooves raked his skin, he could only hope the wounds weren’t too deep. He probably didn’t have to worry about rust getting in though.

Now that Lucky was plummeting down beneath him Script had enough time to notice that he was spinning. Just enough that by the time he made contact with the cold hard ground he was dizzy and faintly sick. Since up and down at this point were interchangeable the enchanter took a guess and firmly planted his face on the stone. Majestic. His gasmask protested loudly and he only hoped that it didn’t get damaged by his spontaneous faceplant.

Script took a moment to take a few, controlled breaths and waited until up and down finally settled who was were. Finally he looked up and gaped as he saw Lucky, face buried in the ground and hindquarters sticking in the air.

He rushed over and began inspecting his friend, trying to see if, or what had been damaged. Script wanted to pull him out, but if his neck had taken damage that might not be the smartest move. Still, with his face buried in the dirt breathing wouldn’t be easy either, right? A few other possibilities tumbled through his mind before he finally decided to extricate Lucky from his unfortunate dirt nap.

“Potion didn’t work as planned, or maybe it was the wrong one.” He reported dutifully. “Some sort of magnetic attraction field I think.”

The way Lucky had been coated in iron so quickly it only made sense. It also made him unbearably heavy. With luck the coating had been stiff enough that it protected Lucky from some of the fall damage. Maybe he was just seriously rattled. As soon as Script had him lying down he could take the time to look him over properly.

He just hoped his friend was still breathing.

[Red Charge]

The northern unicorn was definitely going to do his best to help his friend. Fantasy was absolutely determined. If that meant pulling him out of the hole he was in, he was going to do it! Then again, it was quite hard to pull someone who was no longer there... Wait what?

When Script turned his attention back to the iron clad unicorn, all he could see was a Lucky Drops shaped hole in the ground, leading into what appeared to be a lit floor below.

"What the hay? We rode the shaft all the way down, there's not supposed to be another floor! What's going on? Why is it lit?" Max Force asked questions that, while valid, had no place being asked aloud at the moment. Completely without hesitation, the large mare jumped in after the alchemist, taking care not to land on top of the poor unicorn. No fear, just action. She might as well have been jumping into a viper pit.

With no other choice, Script followed, landing heavily on the rubble next to Lucky's armored form and immediately he was exposed to a quite unexpected scenario. The area was wide open, well lit and filled with tents. Lots of tents. Not old tents from the Dragon Wars. No.

These tents were modern looking and not only that, but he knew exactly who made them. The Northern Barrens were crawling with them, even in tough city of Stalliongrad they were treated with suspicion and care. These tents were carrying the winged, teardrop bearing a keyhole. The Rainlock family crest.

Fantasy knew little of the Rainlock family other than the fact that they were great explorers and abhorrently rich. They had their own army, mostly made up of former military ponies, carrying the finest in modern technology. He also knew they recently stopped and entire Diamond Dog invasion army at Manehattan and even one of the Diamond Dog generals, which was nothing to scoff at.

The camp area had at least a dozen or so tents, crates of supplies and ammunition and gem-posts scattered around, still lit. But Fantasy couldn't see anyone. Was everyone asleep? Were there no guards on patrol? Or did the Rainlock Security Forces run off as soon as Lucky crashed through their ceiling?

"Rainlock..." Max Force muttered, "But... why?" She asked. The mare looked absolutely dumbfounded. What would a mercenary force be doing in the middle of an abandoned mine?

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." The Alchemist piped up, climbing out from a heap of red iron, whatever effect his potion had already gone. "Gotta note for myself that the Iron Flesh Potion protects against fall damage." He said, seemingly forgetting where he was. He pulled out a notepad and scribbled on it. Before seeming content and putting it back in his pouch. "I didn't expect the carapace to become so powerful, it was just supposed to attract iron-dust from... Whoa..." The alchemist let out, suddenly taking note of his environment.

"Let's look around." Max Ordered, signaling the two to fan out among the tents, Lucky going a few rows to her right and Fantasy a few rows to her left.

[Fantasy Script]

Lucky was… gone? Wait what?

He didn’t get much chance to be surprised as their fearless leader came up beside him. Script was sure that this discovery would spell trouble for them.

“Tartarus if I know…” He muttered, keeping his voice down. Max was hollering enough for the both of them. The slayer didn’t hesitate much and jumped down the hole. Script gaped as he watched her. Fearless was one thing, but this seemed, to him, a bit reckless. Celestia knows what kind of things were waiting for them down there. A rough plan of engagement might have been a good idea. He shrugged. Didn’t matter now.

Taking aim he jumped after her, careful to miss Lucky and their leader.

The ground under his hoofs crunched loudly as he smashed into it, his own weight and that of his armor combined made for a heavy fall. Taking a moment to get his bearings the enchanter finally looked around and was startled at their surroundings.

“Rainlock… what?”

Around them the tents bore proudly the symbol of the Rainlock Security Force. Script had seen them in the North every now and again. Most ponies treated them with suspicion and the young enchanter had had no dealings with them.

However, the bigger question was: What were they doing here? Right now?!

And maybe more importantly, were was everyone?

Lucky’s muttering barely registered as he loosened his sword in its scabbard. The enchanter did not like what was going on, and he was convinced the other horseshoe was about to drop. The three of them spread out, Script took to the left and made his way past the tents. He strained his ears to catch any small sound. Maybe this was some sort of ambush? The ponies around here must have heard them.

Or maybe the had been ambushed?

He’d have to look out for signs of movement, maybe of battle. Anything that told him what was going on here. Maybe some of the tents held the answer.

[Red Charge]

The unicorns all spread out, peeking into every tent, all completely empty, but stocked. Sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, even some personal effects... all intact. Not a single sign of struggle, scuffle or quick getaway. More disturbing, no residual magic anywhere to indicate some sort of teleportation. A fine layer of dust was covering everything, this place was empty for quite some time. But why?

At the other end of the large cavern, the three unicorns met at the only pathway in and out of this area. If anyone had been here, this had to be where they came in and where they came out. Something was wrong here. Very wrong. Rainlock were risking an international incident, breaking a litany of laws and tempting the wrath of the Dragon Council, just to leave the place abandoned and full of evidence? No, something was very wrong here.

"We should open a portal back." Lucky Drops stuttered, the vastness of the cavern doing little to curb his claustrophobia.

"Absolutely not, we don't know what's down here and I'm not risking it getting through." Max replied sternly.

"No way. I refuse to continue until we make the portal rune at the very least." Lucky Drops insisted, "I'm not moving another step until we do. If there's anything out there that could make an entire camp of Rainlock mercs disappear, I'm not going anywhere until I have a getaway. I don't care what you say I'm doing it." At that the unicorn began to carve the rune into the grond using magic from his horn.

Max Force's expression went, for a second there, into perfect stillness. Fantasy knew that she was truly contemplating ending the Alchemist right there. Right now, he was making a gateway back to Equestria, a gateway through which something terrible might cross if they fell. He was a threat. For a slayer, there's only one way to deal with a threat. He could tell all of her instincts were screaming at her to extinguish the cheeky unicorn right then and there, despite her death-like stillness. It was bone chilling. What would Fantasy do if Max lurched at his friend? Max was absolutely right, if something terrible was here, they could not risk it going into Equestria. But Lucky was also right, going further without means to quickly retreat meant certain death.

"Fine." She said at last, going over to help him make the rune. "Fantasy, keep that tunnel covered." She ordered, her voice monotone.

They worked slowly and methodically, Max Force was carving the rune into the ground, while Lucky Drops was polishing the carvings behind him, rounding out the angles, making them into perfect channels. "Fantasy, you've got more practice filling runes than either of us, channel some ether into this, so we can just spark it if we have to run." Molding ether into a rune was just as important as the rune itself. A miscalculation could be deadly. Instead of appearing in Equestria they could appear in a solid block of stone, or space, or under the ocean.

[Fantasy Script]

Tent after tent. Nothing. Well not nothing, but no ponies, no other living being. Just some personal effects and equipment. That was it. With each tent Script checked, some strange feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong down here. A whole company of Rainlock Mercs and they left everything behind, no scuffle, no fight, no resistance, no trace that they had ever been here?

The thought that something might have done that, something that was still around, chilled Script to his very core. He checked another tent, but he didn’t hold out much hope of finding anything but abandoned stuff. Nothing. Another tent. Still nothing.

Finally he met up with his companions.

Neither of them had found anything either. The Rainlocks had vanished without a trace.

Script was all in favor of opening a portal at this point. In fact, he was all in favor of evacuating out of here with all due haste. The big unicorn wasn’t easily scared, but there was something down here that terrified him. He watched Lucky’s and Max’s interaction for a bit, but stayed silent. He had nothing to add and didn’t wish to ignite either’s temper. Both had a valid point and he had to agree with Max. He wanted out, but he didn’t want whatever was down here to get into Equestria.

Tension escalated when Lucky decided to go ahead and started carving the rune. The look on Max’s face frightened Script. He understood on an objective level that Max was a Slayer, and Slayers had only one way to deal with threats. To see her look at his friend like he was nothing more than a pest to be removed, something frosty and snarling inside the Enchanter did not appreciate it. His ever present frown turned into an even darker look and he slowly inched his way between the two. If Max decided Lucky was to be stopped, well, Script didn’t fancy he had a chance against the Slayer, but he might last long enough to slap some sense into both of them.

He sighed audibly in relief when Max agreed with the plan.

“Yes, ma’am.” Orders acknowledged he drew his sword and took guard in the tunnel. He wasn’t taking any chances now. He strained his ears, hoping he could catch even a hint of a noise. Anything to warn him. Paranoia made him glance towards the ceiling every now and again. A surprising number of ambush attacks came from above, after all, nobody ever bothered to look up, right?

When Max finally called him over he gave the tunnel and area one last lingering look before he sheathed his weapon.

“Will do, ma’am.”

He marched over to the freshly carved rune and gave it a once over, more out of habit than distrust in the other’s abilities. With a deep breath he carefully calculated and molded the ether needed and gently pushed it into the rune. He had done often enough that the process was familiar, but stress made ponies careless and created mistakes. Script was not someone to underestimate stress. Enchanting was dangerous enough as it was.

Once the rune was charged he turned towards his officer.

“Charged and ready, ma’am.” He glanced down the tunnel again. “Now what?” He gave the empty tents a pointed nod.

“Fancy taking it up with whatever removed those Rainlocks?”

[Red Charge]

There it was, the three were standing at the opening to the only tunnel leading to the cavern. Lucky Drops took a deep breath and gave Fantasy a significant look behind Max's back. It was obviously to remind him of his promise.

"Whatever happens in there stay together." Max instructed, drawing her heavy sword with her magic and keeping it afloat at the ready. She took the lead, with Fantasy bringing up the rear and Lucky in the middle. "Potions, just in case we need to off the lights." He said, perfectly lucid now, his claustrophobia vanishing in the face of a fare more terrifying enemy. A quick gulp and the three had downed the potion. The potion felt warm and soothing, like a sip of spiced cider. "It's mixed with cider." Lucky told Fantasy, reading his expression. "Got that recipe from a northern alchemist, the Stalliongrad guards use it on cold nights to keep warm and see in the dark."

Max nodded, "Alright, kill the lights." she turned off the light on her mask and Lucky did the same.

Finally they began to stride down the passage, it was dark, but they could see rather well thanks to Lucky's potion. There was nothing of significance in the long passage, other than rubble and more rubble. Then finally, they could see something at the end of the tunnel, something that should not have been there.

Even the Slayer, trained to deal with any surprise that may pop up in the field, gasped in surprise.

"That's impossible." Lucky said, peeking around the mare. "How did it get here?"

Fantasy has seen it before, there were several of them scattered around the Northern Barrens, but no one even there was keen to trifle with them. But there it was, right in front of them, the entrance to an Equiterian Citadel.

Lucky approached the entrance and looked at it. "Some of the script is worn and broken, but it seems like this was some sort of facility..."

"You can read Equiterian?" Max asked.

"Uh, of course? They were some of the greatest alchemists in history? Knowing how to read their recipes, maybe even being able to recreate them... you won't find a lot of alchemists who don't know Equiterian at least on a basic level. In fact, the advanced alchemy courses in Neighroby have an Equiterian requirement."

The slayer nodded, satisfied with his answer, though it seemed like there was more to it than just that. How likely would it have been for someone like Lucky to raid an equiterian ruin in search of treasure or alchemical knowledge?

"Seems like the Rainlock crew were excavating this ruin." Lucky said, examining supports and discarded equipment left at the entrance corridor.

"No..." Max interjected, "This equipment is old.... really old... look, practically calcified." She picked up some sort of tool that was rusted and calcified nearly beyond recognition and turned it over.

"What the buck." Lucky said, surprise knocking his tone into complete monotone.

On the back of the tool, worn and disfigured by time, was a symbol of the Griffin Kingdom.

"Let's not draw any conclusions yet." She hurried to say, placing it in her pack. "We need to press forward, keep an eye out, the Rainlocks might be working inside."

A walk through a long corridor followed that conversation, a very silent walk. They knew better than to try and talk and possibly alert the Rainlocks to their existence. It seemed like they passed quite a few empty halls, before finally reaching something... horrifying. Bones. Bones bones and more bones. Giant bones, small bones, griffin bones, dragon bones, pony bones, amassed in a large pile, almost big enough to fill the hall.

"We need to leave. Now." Max said. Just as a loud chorus roared into life all around them. Chanting at a deafening volume in Equiterian. The voices came from everywhere at once and not only that, they felt like they were coming from INSIDE of them. Immediately a sense of dread and impending doom took hold of all of them.

"What are they chanting?" Max shouted, trying futilely to cover her ears.

"It's ... something about fire and battle and shadow.... I can't... it's too much!" Lucky replied miserably, also trying to cover his ears. "

As the three turned to leave the way they came they found themselves staring at a wall, far too sturdy to break through.

"No..." Lucky whimpered.

[Fantasy Script]

At Lucky’s pointed look, Script frowned harder, but gave a slow nod in answer. He did not like the thought of ending his friend’s life, even in the worst case. On the other hoof, he wouldn’t abandon the pony alive in the dark with only monsters to keep him company. That just sounded beyond cruel. The enchanter just hoped it never even came to that. A shudder shock him at the thought.

He tasted the light potion with an appreciative smacking of his lips. That tasted almost familiar and the warm feeling it left in his stomach reminded him of home in the strangest way. He could almost see the swirls of snow and feel the frost try and bite at his coat. Lucky’s comment was no surprise, but confirmed his suspicion.

“A very nice brew.” Script murmured and gave Lucky a grateful nod.

With a tug of telekinesis the sword was loosened from his sheath and brought into an easy steady, at this point, blank steel was needed. The stomach almost dropped out of the unicorn when he beheld what the end of the tunnel had prepared for them.

“It… it can’t be!” Script hissed, surprise and a healthy dose of fear overwhelmed him for a moment and he made to turn before he caught himself. Equiterian Citadel… here? What exactly had they stumbled upon? He gave the thing a scrutinizing look, but he had little experience with them. He wasn’t stupid enough to venture into one up north, no matter how interesting or educational their insides might be.

Lucky’s ability to read Equiterian only slowly wormed its way into Script’s head, and he honestly wished he could say he was surprised, he was, mildly perhaps, but so far, Lucky had proven time and again that he had a varied, and sometimes obscure skill set. He wouldn’t be surprised if the alchemist pulled a pair of wings out of his plot at this point.

Well, maybe a bit.

“Could you teach me?” He asked his lighter coloured friend. The ‘If we come out of here alive’ clung to his words like a foreboding spectre, but he dared not say it aloud.

As they surveyed the ruin before them, Script tried hard to recall all of the tidbits and pieces of information he had gathered in his life. Tried to remember what little he knew about the civilization. He had a healthy interest in them, especially their enchantments, and had read up on them on occasion, but in the face of a Citadel, it felt all so paltry.

A thought occurred to him though and he gave the alchemist a long look. Lucky spoke Equiterian, Lucky was claustrophobic and deathly afraid of being abandoned in the dark. Coupled with his odd comments and habits here and there… he wondered whether the alchemist was afraid of something like that happening again… Script wondered, truly wondered, what had happened in his friend’s past. If they made it out, he might have to ask.

Another long corridor. A feeling of dread settled in Script’s stomach. This was not going to end well. He just knew it. The enchanter wondered about Max’s view of the situation. Abandoned equipment, both somewhat recent and old, from Rainlocks and Griffins and neither of the groups seemed to be around anymore.

He did not voice his thoughts, preferring to not raise panic, especially since he was sure Max was thinking the same thing. But something had gotten rid of both groups, something they were stumbling into now as well.

Past a last bend Script could no longer keep his mouth shut.

“What in Celestia’s name…?!”

Bones. So many bones. Revulsion, fear and a thousand other dark thoughts an emotions welled up inside him and made him almost retch. He wasn’t a queasy pony, not by a long shot, but this was… this was something else. Something an a totally different scale. And it absolutely reeked of a trap.

A feeling of doom so palpable it almost felt like it strangled you settled around him. He wanted to leave. So did Max but the chanting made thinking hard. The horribly loud noise was smothering. They turned and the enchanter openly gasped a look of profound horror on his face.

The way back was closed.

Around them thundered a chant about fire and battle and shadow, according to Lucky… This could not be good. This would not end well. Script tried to gather his resolve, held his sword at the ready and just hoped, prayed to the princesses, that they would survive whatever was about to be unleashed.

[Red Charge]

"What do we do?" Lucky asked, "What the Bloody Buck Bullion do we do?"

"Okay, stay calm, that's the first thing. That chant is trying to get us to panic, we can't let it. We need to keep it together, no matter w-" Max Force never got to finish that sentence, as instinctively, her sword immediately flew to her defense, as she caught movement from the corner of her eye.

Lucky yelped loudly and took off, running towards the pile of bones and clambering up them desperately to get away from where he was just standing. For Fantasy, with his heavy gear, that was not a real option. Whatever it was leaped right off of Max Force's parry, not before giving her a wide gash on her cheek, then rested high up on the wall, before vanishing again.

Fantasy was only able to get a quick look at the attacker, but that look was enough. An Equiterian, skeletal, armored, hooded and cloaked, wearing a terrifying mask depicting death's face itself and just like that, it was gone.

"Move!" Max Force called, pushing the unicorn away from her as she leapt to the other side and a stream of daggers embedded themselves where he was just standing. Then a clap of thunder and both were thrown against the opposite walls.

"What the hay, what the hay!" Lucky was calling desperately, still climbing the bone pile, he was only barely able to duck into a dragon's skull before a series of dagger disintegrated it with another thunderclap.

"SOL!"

The chanting boomed, "SA!" Max Force was getting back to her hooves.

"RANG!"

She barely managed that before having to dodge yet another swipe by the hooded Equiterian.

"BROKA!"

The Equiterian bounced off the floor fluidly, and kicked off the wall for a follow up, which threw Max straight into the bone pile

"EQUITES!"

An avalanche of bones buried the mare, pulling Lucky several feet down the pile even as he continue to scramble up it.

"KA'RTA!"

The chanting continued, pounding in Fantasy's ears.

Something shattered near his hooves, and then a loud magical twang engulfed him as the Equiterian collided with the bottled barrier Lucky just tossed. Finally the thing stopped moving, standing on the ceiling above them. Finally Fantasy good get a good look at the black robes, hemmed with red, the ornate armor, the assortment of weapons hiding in them... the skeletal... pegasus wings?

"Arcani..." Lucky uttered.

---

EQUITERIAN ARCANI


There is only one mention of the Equiterian Arcani in the entirety of Equiterian Lore collected so far. That reference is only one line long, being "I know not what drives an Arcani, only that I never wish to see one so long as I live."

Special effects -

Unknown.

Danger Level - EPIC

[Fantasy Script]

Blood pounded in his ears, the chants oppressive presence fueled his panic as the enchanter tried to think through the noise. His sword raised high Script held it between himself and the room, as much shield as it was weapon against the unknown. His eyes twitched over to the slayer as the unicorn saw the slayer’s sword flash into a parry. The thing jumped off the blade in the blink of an eye, but a quick glimps told him more than he wanted to know.

Equiterian.

His revelation was short lived as Max shoved him away. The follow up explosion from the strange daggers did the rest and smashed him into a wall. He could barely keep track of the thing, but at least, with a groan he shook off the impact and climbed back to his hooves. He wasn’t built for speed, not by a long shot. He was heavy in built and in gear, he was a northerner through and through. But at least he could take a punch.

He brought his sword up again and tried to keep up with the mad bouncing ball of death. His eyes narrowed. What good was a blade if he couldn’t strike - if he couldn’t even see his target!?

His body tensed as the Equiterian flew at him again and he prepared himself to weather the shock of impact, if he moved his magic quick enough he might even land a strike on the skeletal being.

Something shattered at his hooves but he paid it little heed, hoping against hope that whatever it was, it was Lucky’s and whatever it did, would be beneficial to him. The thing crashed against a bottled barrier and his parry was wasted. Scrambling to get back into stance Script looked at the thing that had finally deigned to stop for a moment.

The armor looked magnificent and he’d bet his horn it was enchanted heavily. The skeletal pony – Pegasus he corrected as he spied the wings – was a formidable, heavily armed foe.

“What is that?! And how do we stop it?!”

He wondered whether his bellow could be heard above the chant. The ever present noise pounded against his ears and slowly but surely drove him nuts.

A growl ripped loose from his throat and he grabbed the sword with his mouth to free up his horn. Concentrating he charged up a simple bolt of magic, his blade in a basic defensive hold, and hoped to nail the undead with a shot to the head. He only wished he knew something, anything about the beast.

[Red Charge]

Even as Fantasy Script was looking up at the ceiling, the Arcani vanished, there is no other word to describe what happened. One moment he was there, one moment he was not. Faster than Fantasy's brain could process. Fantasy's adrenal gland went into overdrive at that moment and the world fell into slow motion. In all of his life, Fantasy has never experienced the world this way. His eyes moved down slowly from the ceiling, like a slow panning camera in a Stalliongrad horror movie, somewhere in the background he could hear lucky shout a warning... By the time Fantasy's gaze was level with the ground, the Arcani's blade was already behind his defences and about to embed itself in the soft flesh of his neck. Was this what dying was like? Was he supposed to start seeing his whole life flashing before his eyes?

Not if Max Force had anything to say about it. The mare had a hard time finding an angle from which to attack the pegasus without hurting Fantasy, so without thinking, she launched a force bolt so powerful it bounced off the wall, shaking the entire room, and struck the undead equiterian from the side, causing his blade to only slightly scratch Fantasy's throat as the Arcani was thrown right through the bone pile, which collapsed in an avalanche on top of it.

The world suddenly came back to full speed, Fantasy's head throbbing painfully, but all of the sounds were still somewhat muted, he couldn't make out what anyone was saying until Max Force slapped him out of it.

Lucky was screaming. "We can't fight it here! We have to go deeper!" He already hopped past the bone pile and started heading down the corridor. It didn't really matter what was deeper inside the Equiterian complex, it couldn't possibly be worse than what was in that room with them.

Max Force did not wait for Fantasy to get moving, instead she grabbed him with her hooves and with a half spin flung him over the massive bone pile as though he was nothing more than a ragdoll and then, in a streak of creative casting, cast a forcebolt on herself to toss herself past it as well. Even as they were entering the corridor, they could hear the bone pile collapsing again.

"This is insane..." Lucky wheezed, running as the two caught up to him.

"Don't lose your head." Max Force said, "We just need a strategy and we can take that thing down."

"Don't you get it?" Lucky said, "Those bones, the cave ins, don't you understand? The griffons didn't collapse the caves to kill the dragons, the griffons collapsed the cave to seal that thing in here! AND WE LET IT OUT!"

Max Force stumbled and for the first time, Fantasy saw her go white. Even while facing the Behemoth Fantasy did not see her like this.

If what Lucky said was true... The Griffons were innocent, yet they fought on, they truly believed The Dragon Wars were preferable than risking the dragons digging this thing out, whatever it was, risking the annihlation of their own kingdom to keep this terror from the world, AND THEY WERE TRAPPED HERE WITH IT.

[Fantasy Script]

The shot flew wide as his concentration scattered. Time slowed to a crawl and Script knew, just knew he needed to look down. He forced his gaze towards where he knew the Arcani was, but no matter how much he strained his muscles, his eyes moved so sluggishly towards his foe.

The blade flew at him, a glint of metal in the dark promising a swift death.
Would life flash before his eyes now? Would he see again all the things that had happened at home? His mother, his father, his sister… all of them dead or gone. Would he follow them now?

The room shook, pain twitched along his neck and he was sure it was over now. He was done. Dead. It was over. He was pleasantly surprised it didn’t hurt as much. Though he really hoped the infernal noise would quiet down already. Everything sounded like he had cotton stuffed into his ears and he felt… disconnected from reality somehow.
Was this dying?

The slap to the face brought focus to his senses again.

Next thing he knew he was thrown around like ragdoll. Dang that woman was strong. Whatever they fed the slayers, he wanted a piece of it if it gave you this much strength. An awkward landing later he was back on his feet sheathing his weapon and running after Lucky.

The alchemist was wheezing loudly but fear kept his hooves moving with surprising speed. The conclusion his friend had drawn was a grim one. Max looked like she was ready to throw up and seeing the slayer so shaken made Script feel cold fear grasp his heart.

His frown sharpened into an almost snarl.

“Everything can be killed, nothing is perfect. Equiterian or no everything has a flaw, a loophole, anything. We just need to find a way to unravel whatever it is that holds it together.”

Somewhere down here. Script hoped. Script begged and prayed to the princesses. Somewhere down here, they’d find what they’d need to defeat the Arcani.

They just had to.

“We’re not dead yet, guys. Come on!”

He bumped into Lucky and hoped to convey just a bit of hope. A bit of good will to keep up morale.

[Red Charge]

Even as they ran the choir's vocals pounded in their ears, nay, their souls. This incantation, whatever it was, was not just natural sound. It was something about the voices, something that resonated within them, preventing clarity and focus.

Lucky, having been bumped let out a squeal and began to toss one flask after another from his pouch, forcing Fantasy to dodge again and again as explosions, multicolored vapors, magefire and even an explosion of sticky spiderweb like substances erupted behind him. While it was probably going to slow the Arcani down, Lucky was bound to hit the enchanter at some point.

"Lucky you crazy bastard you're gonna blow our heads off!" Max said, forcefully tearing Lucky's pouch from his inner thigh and levitating it into her pack. "Turn down here, keep moving!"

One corner later, they were in a wide hall, filled with long dining tables and benches, rusty and rotten. Max Force immediately shut and barred the doors. This room was part of the Equiterian defense method. The corridor would bottleneck any intruders and the Equiterians would amass here, spears ready and surround the doorway, impaling anything that tried to come in.

Lucky quickly wrestled his pouch out of Max Force's pack and started coating the door with concoctions and potions. Eliciting sparks and vapors and Celestia knows what. Max Force in the meanwhile began tossing as many benches at the door as possible stacking them to prevent it from opening. Once the two of them were done they collapsed against each other, panting.

"Buck it all..." Max Force exhaled between gasps. "Fantasy... put some sealing enchantments on the door for Luna's sake!"