The Elder Scrolls: Equestria

Chapter Five

The Morning Trial

“Something’s not right here . . .”

~Applebuck~

A medium length of stone table, covered by a yellow ornamental cloth, sat as the centerpiece of the length of hall that extended past the Mournful Throne.  To call it a hall was superfluous, as it only had one wall bordering it, both ends extending to their own, specifically one leading to the Throne and the other to the Chancellor’s personal blacksmith.

Upon the table rested a few candelabras, illuminating the numerous bowls and plates of food littering its surface.  Jugs of milk from the outlying farms, juices fresh squeezed from the gardens, and the earth pony’s water:  Cider.  Alongside the cider was some bottles of wine:  White and red wine, and some special alto wine imported from Pegasopolis.

Assorted steamed vegetables and steaming loaves of white and rye bread laid on silver platters, mildly hot piles of fried potatoes sauteed with onions and peppers, and fresh salads sat in similarly silver bowls, while a serving of sliced ham and fried eggs sat on each of the four’s plates.

Applebuck (his armor and warhammer had been confiscated by Monotonia and set aside, out of his reach) sat next to the housecarl, whom sat across from the trepid unicorn.  Smart Cookie, on her own personal chair, sat at the head of the table.  He glared at the unicorn, unsure as to what the Chancellor was up to, but ready for anything the unicorn might try to pull.  If the unicorn was surprised at the offer of breakfast, then he hid it behind his expressionless mask.

“I say we behead him,” stated Applebuck.  The unicorn merely acknowledged him with a glance, as if he expected this sort of treatment.  Smart Cookie reached for a bowl of salad before responding.

“On what grounds?” she asked, taking a bite out of the pile of leaves.

“He was found trespassing in Dun Mare.”  Applebuck grabbed a salad as well, and dished some of the potatoes onto his plate.  “On top of that, he attacked three officers, one of which was half-blinded as a result.”

“Did he, now?”  Smart Cookie poured herself some of the alto wine, offering it to her guests as well.  Monotonia declined and poured herself some hard cider, Applebuck held out his goblet for her to pour the light red liquid into, and the unicorn just glared at the green bottle.  Smart Cookie shrugged at his reaction, and set the bottle down beside her own goblet.  “Who was injured?”

“A new-blood by the name of Daggerlot.  I had another knight bring him to the temple.”  Applebuck started on a piece of ham, dipping it into the egg yolk.

Smart Cookie nodded in agreement.  “And who de-horned him?” she asked, gesturing to the unicorn beside her, who glared at her.

“Same pony.”

The Chancellor allowed herself to look genuinely impressed.  “Tenacity.  Wonderful attribute for a Knight, wouldn’t you agree, Monotonia?”

The housecarl took a sip of wine before answering, “Honor and courage are the currency of the Knight.”

“I do love your adages, especially when said in that dulcet, monotonous voice of yours,” Smart Cookie said while hiding an amused smile.  She gave herself a moment to enjoy another bite of salad and a sip of wine before turning back to the resident praefect.  “Applebuck, when this is over will you notify... Daggerlot?  Notify Daggerlot of his promotion.”

He acknowledged her with a nod before savoring his helping of fried potatoes.  “Yes ma’am, I shall.”

The Chancellor eyed the unicorn’s untouched food.  “As a guest, it is rather rude to not eat the food that is provided for you.  The kitchen servants go to great lengths to prepare such meals,” she chastised him.

The unicorn snorted in response.  “I will not play your games, Warlord.”

The hall became deathly silent at the mention of “Warlord.”  All three of them stopped eating, and Monotonia and Applebuck darted their eyes toward their leader to catch her reaction.  If Smart Cookie was offended by the unicorn moniker, then she showed no sign of it.  Instead, she gently placed down her utensil, giving the unicorn her full attention.

“I am not a warlord,” she said to him, in the way one would say “the sky is blue.”  If the unicorn felt the malice disguised in her words, then he did not heed it.  “If you are looking for a warlord, I suggest you go visit the pegasi.”

“You carry the Halberd.  It is a weapon fit for ground-pounding war mongers such as yourself, passed down through your leaders you call ‘Chancellors’, who are no better than the brutish leaders of a barbaric culture,” he spat at her.

Applebuck jumped out of his seat with enough force to send it flying across the room, and slammed his hooves on the table as he attempted to leap across and eviscerate the offending stallion.  Monotonia reacted quickly, grabbing the praefect and throwing him to the ground, wrestling to keep him down.  Before Applebuck had even reacted, Smart Cookie had drawn a dagger made from an unusual golden alloy, and pressed it against the unicorn’s neck, right across his still-healing scar.

“I welcome you into my dining hall, give you food to eat and wine to drink, and treat as if you were a civilian of my own province, and this is how you act?  Now who is the barbarian!” she spat at him in a venomous tone.

The unicorn (whether out of sheer stupidity or through ill brazen), despite having a foot-long blade pressed against his neck, had the gall to laugh.  “Are you serious?  You’re treating my ‘trial’ – as if you can call this mockery a trial – as if it were nothing but a friendly meeting!  You talk of beheading me over wine and bread – as if this were nothing but a breakfast tradition!  How is that not barbaric?”  Everypony in the room stopped and stared at him, stunned by his words.  Even Smart Cookie was taken aback, reflexively loosening her hold.  The stallion took advantage of her temporary shock and continued.

“Why don’t you go ahead and kill me?  You’d be doing me a favor,” he said, glaring at the dagger hovering near his throat.  Smart Cookie left the blade where it was, and focused now on the unicorn, intent on hearing what he had to say.  “I’ve seen you and your housecarl staring at my robes, you recognize the symbol, you know who I am – who I represent.  They will kill me should I return, so I have no wish to do so – I rather like my intestines the shape they’re in, and I have no desire to see what they look like.”

He glanced back down at the dagger, and in one swift move grabbed it and the Chancellor’s hoof and slammed them onto the table, and shoved his face into hers.  Applebuck flinched reflexively, and Monotonia’s hoof twitched toward the ebony dagger strapped to her flank.  “Your dog broke my horn, and thus I cannot perform magic anymore.  You’ve already taken from me my greatest asset – my life and soul!”  He took the mare’s hoof that held the dagger and thrust it against his neck.  “SO KILL ME ALREADY!”

Silence once more reigned as the two held eye contact.  The unicorn glared at her with barely disguised malice, yet Smart Cookie’s own emotions were unreadable behind her eyes.  Applebuck and Monotonia, sprawled on the ground, sat still as death, waiting anxiously for something to happen.  After a long minute Smart Cookie removed her hoof from his throat, then punched him.  He reeled backward, falling into his chair.  The mare just looked at him with pity.

“I have decided what to do with you, unicorn.”  She picked up her dagger, and slid it back into its sheath as she turned to face her housecarl.  “Monotonia, go fetch two guards and have them escort him to the Mine.”

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“I could not just kill him.”

Applebuck stared just beyond Smart Cookie’s eyes, taking in the structural magnificence of the pillars holding up Understone Keep.  While Dun Mare’s most intimidating feature was the ebony mountain it rested in, the most impressive feature was the city itself.  Most outsiders were under the impression that the earth ponies had carved the city in its entirety, and the earth ponies did not deny this myth.

They had not actually crafted Dun Mare; even with all the earth ponies in Equestria, that would have been an impossible feat in two decades.  In truth, the earth ponies had wandered the desert for months looking for suitable building land, and were drawn to the large, black mass of rock that was to become Mount Ebony.  Imagine their surprise and elation at finding a massive, abandoned city, ripe for the taking, just sitting there.

It did not take long for the rumor to spread that the earth ponies had built a fortress, prompting the unicorns to build Dun Mare’s equal in Canterlot.  Although, where they found the time to construct a castle while working on the Tower of Harmony Applebuck had no idea, nor did he care to.

Applebuck was busy being disappointed in himself.  He was acting rather immature for his rank, and he knew it.  However, he was also disappointed that the unicorn’s head did not roll.  He should have just killed the stallion at the gate, and chalked it up to self-defense.

“Why not?” he asked the mare.

She eyed the ponies now filtering into the hall as the day approached noon.  “Come.  Take a walk with me.”  She gestured toward the door leading outside the throne room.  Applebuck sighed and followed, very happy that she was family, given his present attitude.

Two stallions dressed in red-stained cuirasses approached, but Smart Cookie held out a hoof.  “This here is Praefect Applebuck.”  She nodded her head towards him.  “He will suffice as my bodyguard for now.”

The two guards glanced over Applebuck, and shared a look.  “Isn’t he a mite young?” the one on the left said.  Applebuck felt his cheeks burn, and clenched his teeth.

“Did you not hear me say Praefect Applebuck?  His age is of no concern of mine, and I assure you he is capable.”  Applebuck felt his cheeks grow hotter as the Chancellor all but confirmed his youth.  The two guards once more shared a look, and decided it was better to not question their superior.  The pair walked their own paths away, but not before giving the praefect and their charge a second glance.

“I’m not that young,” Applebuck breathed as the doors closed behind them.

“No, I dare say you’re not,” the mare agreed.  “But you are one of the youngest recruits, and the youngest praefect.  And, if my sources are correct, you will become the youngest Fire Knight.”

“So, you know about that?”

Smart Cookie flashed him a devious smile, that in an odd way befitted her.  “My dear, I may wear the title Chancellor as merely a memory, but that does not change my role as Jarl of Earth.  I would be a great fool not to have eyes and ears wherever I can spare them.”

Applebuck nodded in agreement.  “Yes, you are right. I plan to run the Gauntlet – this weekend, if probable.”

“Are you ready?  The Gauntlet is not for the faint of heart.”

“I like to believe I am.  We’re not allowed to use any armor, so I left my sanctioned armor back home.  And whatever weapons we use are what we can scavenge during the trial.  I only brought these for safety while crossing the desert.”

"That just leaves the petition.  Do you have anyone in mind?"

Applebuck opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Smart Cookie placing a dough colored hoof over it.  "Other than me?  The petition can not be signed by family members, as you know."

The stallion stared at her for moment, then sighed in defeat.  "Yes, I know.  It's bad enough already, I wouldn't want to add to it."  The mare gave him a curious look, and Applebuck answered her unasked question.  "Some believe that the only reason I made it this far is because of my relation to you."

Smart Cookie paused, her eyebrows furrowed.  "And if that statement was a little more than accurate?"

Applebuck jerked to a stop, staring at her incredulously, his eyes wide as the words of his superiors and equals echoed in his mind.  “You mean... it was true?”

“Don’t dwell on it for too long, Applebuck.”  Smart Cookie looked into his eyes, the truth of her words shining in them.  “You are strong-willed and noble, I just made sure it was recognized.”

A moment of silence followed as Applebuck swallowed her words.  He could feel the doubt still clinging to the edge of his mind, but for now he let the words of his aunt assuage his fears.  “You’re right, you’re right.  I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing!” she said, more forcefully.  “You’re not Private Pansy.”

Applebuck paused mid-trot, his hoof still up as his head cocked to the side.  “Private Pansy?”

Silence fell between them as they continued their walk.  It was not the dreaded silence of being ignored, nor the heated silence of being scorned.  It was a warm, pleasant, and familial silence.  There was nothing left to say, nor was there anything that needed to be said.  Applebuck dutifully followed Smart Cookie (his charge, he reminded himself, having been tasked as her temporary bodyguard) down the narrow hall.  The hall was respectively narrow, compared to the vast openness of the Throne Room.  In reality, the hall was thrice the height of the stallion.

Applebuck was the one who broke the silence, as they neared the end of the corridor.  The corridor was doorless at this end, nothing barring the transition from the narrow hall to the much-less-narrow atrium before them.  More of the large golden pipes fed through the room, a few leading towards a large crevasse forcefully dug through a ruined and crumbling part of the atrium wall.  It was as the two neared the gap that Applebuck spoke up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where are you taking me?”

“To the excavation site,” she answered simply.  Instead of walking past as Applebuck had expected, Smart Cookie veered toward the gaping hole, and climbed up a hastily-crafted stone walkway that led straight through.  Unaware of where she was leading him, Applebuck followed dutifully.

Beyond the hole in the wall was a vast, open bubble blown into the mountain of ebony, like the last breath of some terrible being trapped beneath.  Water poured out of numerous pipes that had collapsed or cracked open, slowly filling a sea of water that had formed below.  A few dark towers, outlined with the orange-gold alloy, and decorated with ancient runes occupied most of the space, connected by thick, curving paths of the same design.

At the bottom of the path they were on a large cloaked figure was bent over a stone table, his silhouette obscuring whatever he was studying.  Flanking him were two mares in commoner’s wear, with pickaxes strapped to their side.

“Excavation site?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?  I suppose its not surprising; we only found it a few months ago.  I’ll let our lead excavator explain it, however.  He’ll be delighted.”  Smart Cookie trotted up to the cloaked figure, and tapped him on the shoulder.  He turned sharply to face her.

“Hm? Jarl, what are you doing here?” he said to her.  Applebuck felt like there was something off about the stranger’s voice, some inequine quality to it.  “I don’t need anymore workers or guards.”

“I was hoping that you would have some work for my companion, here,” she answered, gesturing to the stallion beside her.

His head snapped toward Applebuck, and the praefect stepped back in surprise.  The stranger under the cloak was not a pony:  His feathered face was vaguely avian, along with a golden beak for a mouth and piercing red eyes.  A long, jagged scar ran through one of them, the eye now clouded and most likely blind.  From this angle, his clawed forearms were visible beneath the dark cloak he wore.

“What are you?” Applebuck asked bluntly.  “You’re too short to be a griffon.”

The not-a-griffon snorted.  “How... perceptive of you,” he said snidely, narrowing his eyes at Applebuck.  “I am a hippogriff, half-pony and half-griffon.  Mother was a mare, father was a griffon,” he recited before turning back to Smart Cookie.  “Is this a joke?”

“No.  This is Praefect Applebuck, and he needs a signature for his petition to run the Gauntlet.”

The hippogriff eyed the stallion from under his hood.  “Praefect, hm?  Little young to be a praefect?”  Applebuck kept his mouth closed, but returned the hippogriff’s stare.  Eventually he turned his gaze back to the mare.  “Well, no, I don’t have any work for him.  I have my hands full as it is finding work for my colleagues; too many workers and not enough jobs.”

“What has got you occupied right now?” asked Smart Cookie, peering over at the table.  Chunks of the gold alloy were strewn over it, mixed in with chunks of ebony rock.

“We hit a dead end, but yesterday we discovered a door concealed behind some recently excavated rubble.  I’m hoping it may lead to insights into diamine culture.”  The hippogriff gestured to a broken, dented contraption that vaguely resembled a bipedal, canine creature lying against the stone work table.  “We discovered one of their animunculi outside, and some text I found lead me to believe it may be a factory where the diamine created these automatons.”  A smile spread across his face.  “It may even conceal the secret to how these animunculi work!”

“How exciting,” deadpanned Smart Cookie.  However, the sarcasm was lost on the hippogriff.

“Oh, very much so!  A millenia of questions may finally be answered, should this find prove to be the finding I perceive!”  His colleagues surrounding him all nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“Diamine, those are the diamond dogs, correct?” piped up Applebuck.

The hippogriff turned to him, looking at the praefect as if for the first time.  “Hmm, no mere brute mercenary, but a thinker, eh?”  He ran a talon along his feathered neck.  “Perhaps even... a scholar?  Nah!” he spat.  “But, it seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way.”

“Why does an excavation site require this many guards?”  Applebuck asked, looking around at the armored stallions and mares standing idly by.

“To protect my research, for one.”  The hippogriff glanced at the hole in the wall that served as the entrance to the excavation.  “There are more cutthroat scholars out there who would steal my findings if they got the chance.  And the excavations into Nchuand-Zel are dangerous.  Diamine machines and traps still function even after thousands of years,” he finished, tapping a talon just below his clouded red eye.

“Yes, the knights have a new policy to stay out of diamond dog ruins,” clarified Smart Cookie.

“Oh, right.  I heard about that.  Something involving bandits, I believe.”

Applebuck turned to the Chancellor at the hippogriff’s words.  “When did this happen?”

Smart Cookie put a hoof to her chin.  “It was about a month ago, if I’m not mistaken.  I sent one of my Fire Knights with a few of the guards to clean out an infestation of bandits.  Unfortunately, the bandits holed up in one of the ruins, and the knights followed them in.  Only one of the guard survived.”

Applebuck swore.  “A Fire Knight?”

Smart Cookie nodded in confirmation.  “Yes, it was a shame.  We assume it was an ambush of diamine animunculi, but the surviving guard kept going on about something big.  Really big.”

“From what I’ve heard, he saw one of the centurions,” said the hippogriff ominously.

“What’s a centurion?” asked Applebuck.

“The largest of the animunculi, easily as tall as a tower, some even bigger.  Just one of them could level a company of soldiers!”  Applebuck thought the hippogriff could seem a hair less excited about the prospect.

“Have you ever seen one?” asked Applebuck.

“Not alive, no,” replied the hippogriff.  “And I don’t care to.”  His colleagues all nodded their agreement.

“Well, not that I don’t find this conversation enlightening,” spoke up the Chancellor, catching everypony’s attention.  “But if it’s all the same to you, Applebuck and I shall be on our way.”

The hippogriff arched an eyebrow.  “Leaving so soon, Jarl?”

“I’ve taken a personal interest in finding somepony to sign for his petition, and it appears you have no work for him.”

The hippogriff once again ran a talon down his neck.  “Well, no.  I don’t have anything for him, but you should try my brother, Gearheart.  He’s always looking for help on the orchard.”  He turned back to Applebuck.  “That is, if you don’t mind menial labor?”

“No, of course not,” answered the praefect.  Applebuck swore he saw the tip of the hippogriff’s beak twitch at his answer.

He made a shooing motion with one of his clawed hands.  “Well, then go hunt down my brother, and leave me to my research!”

Smart Cookie raised an eyebrow at the hippogriff, but he had already lost himself scribbling in a ledger.  “Well, then farewell, and thank you, Gauldr.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” dismissed the hippogriff, as he half-heartedly waved.  “Farewell to you as well.”

The Chancellor and her temporary bodyguard made their way out of the diamine excavation, the former wearing a slightly amused look.  “Short-tempered and tactless, but still a genius.”  The mare sighed.  Applebuck looked at her, and he could see the old age betrayed in her own facade.  “Well, I suppose we should make our way towards the farms.”

“I can find my own way, if you wish to return to the throne,” said Applebuck.

Smart Cookie glared at him with enough fire to cause the praefect to flinch.  “Are you suggesting I’m old?”

The stallion shook his head vigorously.  “No, not at all!  It’s just that, as Jarl, you’re the headpiece of Earth.  After the attack this morning, I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to just be trotting around in the open.”

Smart Cookie barked out a hearty laugh.  “Good save!  But nonsense; that’s why you’re my bodyguard, to keep me out of those situations.”  The mare gave Applebuck a look plainly telling him that, under no circumstance, was she going to just ‘return to the throne.’

“As you wish.”

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Passion Heart Acres (according to the old, wooden sign hanging from a diamine arch) lay outside of Dun Mare, hugging close to the edge of Mount Ebony.  Several acres of varying trees (although most of them seemed to be apple trees of one kind or another) stretched across surprisingly fertile fields of sun-baked sand.  A green earth pony waved to them, as she worked bucking trees.

Not far down a well-worn path sat a large, shingle-roofed building, with a not-much-smaller building adjacent.  As the duo approached the main house, they passed by another wooden sign hanging from a pole, ‘Passion Heart Cidery’painted above a caricature of an apple tree.

The quaintness of the farm was reflected inside the cidery:  A moderately-sized bar with a few stools set out in front of it and a couple tables set in the corners, two chairs apiece.  On the walls hung an assortment of decorative plates, feathers hanging off strings attached to them.  A few carpets were being swept of dirt by a young stallion, and an older stallion the color of aged parchment was frantically washing a dagger in a basin.  The only thing that could stain the scene was the body of a large rat, bleeding fresh blood over the stone floor.

“Hello, Gearheart,” said Smart Cookie.  The stallion behind the bar jumped.

“Oh, it’s only you, Chancellor,” he said, putting a hoof over his heart.

“Expecting somepony, are you?” she asked, as Applebuck eyed the dead rat.

Gearheart laughed half-heartedly.  “Are you kidding?  I’m supposed to be holding a tasting of the new Passion Heart Reserve for the Captain of the Guard.”  He gestured to the rat that Applebuck was still eyeing.  “Look at this place!  If he sees my cidery in this state, I’ll be ruined!”

Applebuck turned away from the rat.  “Well, if you’re looking for some help...” he offered.

The stallion eyed the praefect with trepid disbelief, glancing between him and Smart Cookie.  “Oh really?  I don’t suppose you’d just do it out of the kindness of your heart, would you?”  He sighed.  “I hope you don’t expect to be paid until the job’s done.”

“I wasn’t looking for money, actually,” said Applebuck, earning another disbelieving look, both from Gearheart and his help sweeping the floor.

“We were told by your brother, Gauldr, that you are able to sign for Applebuck’s petition to run the Gauntlet,” clarified Smart Cookie.

A glint flickered in the stallion’s eye, and Gearheart’s look of disbelief turned into a grin.  “Really?  Of course I’d sign the petition!”  He turned his attention back to Applebuck.  “My only demand is that these vermin –” he gestured to the rat “– are permanently eliminated before my reputation is destroyed!”

He held up a hoof, signalling for Applebuck to wait as he ran to a back room.  Smart Cookie turned to her praefect.  “Well, now that my job here is done, I will take my leave and return to the throne.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”

Smart Cookie raised an eyebrow.  “Do you think Puddinghead would have named me her successor merely because she liked my mane?”  The mare paused.  “Well, actually, she would ‘ve.  But even still; before I was her secretary, I worked on our family’s farm bucking trees for the harvest.   Even while I was her secretary I still did that.  I believe I can take care of myself, should the need arise.”

Applebuck sighed in defeat.  “All right, as you wish.  Have a good day, Chancellor.”

“You too, Applebuck,” she said as she turned towards the exit.  “And one of these days, I’m going to get you to call me ‘Aunt’!”

“Not for as long as you’re ‘Chancellor’!” he called back as she trotted out the door.  Gearheart returned with a violet bottle in his mouth, which he carefully set on the counter.

“I bought some poison,” he said, pointing at the bottle.  “I was going to have my lazy, good-for-nothing assistant handle it, but he seems to have vanished!”  Applebuck took the bottle and slid it into one of the pockets in his armor.  “If you plant that in the vermin’s nest, it should stop them from ever coming back!”

“And where do you think the nest is?”

Gearheart gestured to a set of double doors adjacent to the bar.  “Back there is where I store the barrels as they ferment.  In the room is a set of stairs leading to the cellar; that’s where I saw the first rat come from.”

Applebuck glanced at the doors in question.  “Alright.  Anything else?”

“Don’t come back until every one of those things are dead!” he ordered.  Applebuck found it amusing how much the bartender reminded him of his old captain.  Gearheart ran over to the doors leading to the storage and unlocked them.  “And... please hurry.  The Captain of the Guard isn’t patient when it comes to tasting time.”

“As you wish.”

The storage room ran parallel to the bar, and was also much larger.  Dozens of oak barrels were scattered over the floor, in some sort of organized chaos that only Gearheart probably understood.  A few small chandeliers hung from the rafters, and a staircase on the opposite wall led up to a platform resting above the rafters.  Next to those were a set of stairs leading into the floor, and ending with a door, presumably the cellar door.

The cellar was certainly cramped; the arched, stone ceiling hung low, and the large vats pushed up against the walls made it slightly hard to navigate.  Applebuck stepped over the disfigured body of a large rat caught in a bear trap, but stopped when he saw the creature’s fangs jutting out from under its lip.

He pried open the rat’s jaw, and tentatively lifted its upper lip.  Applebuck cursed when he saw the two three-inch incisors the beast had.

“Venomfang,” he whispered to the empty air.  Applebuck swore he was going to kill Gearheart when he returned.  Preferably after he received his petition, but he was sure there would be more ponies willing to sign, should something unfortunate happen beforehoof.

Giant rats were common in Equestria, more common than Applebuck wished.  Some were only a foot long, but they could grow to be the size of an equine foal, depending on the species.  Venomfangs, however, were some of the largest rats to plague Southern Equestria.  And, true to their name, the bastards were born with snake-like fangs that injected a nasty poison should they get in a bite.  There was a rumor going about for the last decade that venomfangs were some experiment let loose by the unicorns up North.

He sniffed the air. Ever since he entered the cidery, the smell of apples and cinnamon was constant.  The scent was strong in the storage, and was quite possibly stronger in the cellar.  However, the smell down here was marred by the scent of copper, mold, and oddly enough, fresh earth.  Applebuck flicked his ears, and caught the faint sound of flowing air coming from the back of the cellar.

Somehow, the rats had carved a hole through the stone wall.  At some point Gearheart must have noticed the hole, because several boards were nailed over it.  Somepony had removed a few planks at the bottom, however, leaving a large enough hole for the rats to get through.

After smashing the remaining planks to splinters with his warhammer, Applebuck cautiously trotted through into the cave just beyond.  The cool stone sent a chill through the praefect, but he ignored it, finding the temperate cold enjoyable after the last few days in a blistering desert.

The tunnel was easily the size of a normal equine hall, not something one would expect of a pack of rats, even venomfangs.  At first Applebuck assumed the cave was natural, and coincidentally ran to Passion Heart's cellar, but as he trotted through, he noticed that the rock had an unnatural edge to it.  Not easily noticeable, but there if one looked hard enough.  The more obvious proof that the cave wasn’t natural were the periodical lanterns left burning.  The dull light reflected off the moist rock wasn’t great, but it was enough to maneuver the tunnels with.

Now to find the rat’s nest.

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Tongues of flame licked at Applebuck's mane as he rolled behind a damp stalagmite, the heat from the blast of fire drying the rock and charring it black. He cursed the heavens that allowed him to be right, and the wretched hornhead who was attempting to sear the flesh from his bones. The stalagmite wasn’t large enough to completely bar the heat, and stray flames found their way around, singeing the sides of his leather cuirass and the skin underneath. A moment of respite followed as the unicorn shouted threats and taunts that fell on deaf ears, allowing Applebuck time to leap behind an adjacent boulder, closer to the steel warhammer that rested near the venomfang’s nest.

In Applebuck’s defense, the unicorn mare had been gone when he found the nest. In his eagerness to finish the job and leave, the praefect had laid down his weapon and left himself ignorant of his surroundings. If he had taken the time to study the chamber, he would have recognized the alembic and calcinator on an otherwise empty flat surface of rock in the corner, and deduced that whomever was playing alchemist had disappeared to go search for more ingredients.

Applebuck ran his tongue across his teeth, pooling his saliva and spitting a modest amount of blood on the ground as he prepared for another barrage of flames, the mare’s favorite. Despite being a unicorn, the deranged mare’s first method of attack was a hay shovel to the praefect’s jaw, before she discarded it and began conjuring fire, screaming something about how he was trying to kill her ‘babies’.

The boulder proved to be much more adept at concealing him from the flames, although the heat still made it’s way through the cold stone. He was only a few feet away from his warhammer; close enough to glimpse its head from where he crouched, but far enough away that he would be struck before reaching it. The hammer lay in the open, without any more obstructions for him to hide behind. Applebuck would need to wait for the mare to tire out once more, dash to his hammer, and beat the fear of Tartarus into that mare before she recovered.

The flames receded, and the mare began spouting more taunts. Taking his chance, Applebuck leaped from his hiding spot and made for the steel hammer. In the span of a second he went from a few feet away to mere inches away. Just as he was about to grab the hilt in his mouth and unleash his fury upon the unfortunate mare, his ear flicked and heard an ominous whomph, just beforean explosion carried him off his hooves and sent him flying across the cavern.

Applebuck bounced across the floor, the dust and dirt kicked up masking the smoke from his singed mane. He pawed at his head, his ears ringing. However, before he could regain his footing, another eruption of inferno sent him ragdolling even further away from his target.

“Stop blasting me with your magic, you damned hornhead!” he yelled at the mare, knowing full well she wasn’t about to oblige. The earth pony managed to find temporary respite behind a cluster of stalagmites the explosion had blown him through. The mare screamed something about teaching him a lesson before the cavern shook once more.

The barrier of stalagmites were certainly doing a good job of blocking most of the mare’s offense, and Applebuck took advantage of the breather to chug the last health potion he had brought with him across the desert. His proximity to the last fireball had partially boiled his forehooves, and the earth pony watched anxiously as the potion took effect. A golden light similar to the healing spell the unicorn that morning had used washed over his wounds, reversing the bubbling skin back to smooth.

Blast after blast barraged the barrier, every consecutive hit shaking dust and dirt free. A thin layer covered Applebuck by the time the unicorn ceased her onslaught. Cautiously, he peered between the juts of rock. The mare was pacing back and forth, her livid and deranged glare never leaving his hiding spot. Applebuck watched as she gulped down the contents of a large, blue phial, tossing the bottle to the ground. The praefect noted that there were more than a few similar bottles adorning the cave floor.

The unicorn’s horn flashed, and Applebuck threw himself away from the opening in time to avoid having his eye boiled. The mare had yet to come near him, and seemed content to just stand there, holding him down with her magic. Applebuck wondered if she was actually guarding his weapon, knowing full well her assured demise once he got his hooves on it. Then again, she considered venomfangs her “babies”, and was living underneath a cidery.

Either way, it ended as soon as he reach his warhammer. Which was a problem, because to reach the warhammer meant exposing himself to her raw magic, and Applebuck had no desire to be roasted. The stallion watched as one of the thinner stalagmites vibrated from the force of the blasts. Every time one of the fireballs struck, it waivered, small rocks and pebbles falling from it like apples during the harvest–

Applebuck sat up a little straighter, focusing intently on the stalagmite. He had traveled across the Eversand Desert from his hometown of Brae, a small earth pony village just on the border. There he grew up on his family’s farm, not too different from Passion Heart Acres, apart from size. Ever since he was old enough he helped out the family by bucking trees during the harvest.

He didn’t need his warhammer. He had sheer earth pony strength on his side.

The praefect waited patiently for the onslaught of inferno to end, knowing full well he had but a few seconds before the potions his target was chugging restored her magic. As soon as the pause between tremors became unnaturally long, he bounded out from his hiding spot, aiming straight for the mare.

Her eyes widened when she saw him approaching, and she threw the phial away, lowering her horn. Sparks danced across it, the telltale sign that a spell was only a second away. She was either going to impale him (which at the speed he was going was highly likely) or failing that she was going to turn his face into a charcoal briquette.

As flames licked his coat, Applebuck felt the satisfying crunch of the mare’s skull underneath his hooves. As quickly as the life drained from her, the spell ceased and the flames receded, leaving the praefect with a slightly burnt leather cuirass. He stomped on her head a few times more, for good measure.

He picked up his warhammer from where it had fallen, and slid it back into its sheath. After a moment of thought, he walked back over to the unicorn and spat on her. For good measure.

Applebuck inspected the battlefield. Almost a third of the chamber had been scorched black by the unicorn’s magic, save for the area where the venomfang’s nest was, and where her alchemy station had been set up. There was no question anymore: He was going to brutally murder Gearheart. Before he signed the petition.

Before he could satisfy himself with more futile notions, there was a greater pressing matter at hoof. While the hostility between earth ponies and unicorns was sufficient enough to waiver any hornhead’s dream of traveling Earth, unicorns were not forbidden from entering the province. Unicorns were, however, strictly forbidden from entering the capital of Dun Mare.

Applebuck glared at the mare with a combination of curiosity and borderline hate. This was the second time in one day a unicorn had found their way into the city. The first had infiltrated the walls themselves, albeit with the help of a sleazy merchant. And based on the twists and turns he followed in the winding tunnels, the praefect was most likely underneath Dun Mare. The unicorn mare could have easily carved her way through, if a few of her pets hadn’t found a taste for cider.

The Chancellor needed to hear about this. This mare bore no similar clothing to the first unicorn, and by all appearances the two were not connected, but to Applebuck there were no such things as coincidences. This whole concept of a pony breeding venomfangs while carving her way into Dun Mare underground left a bad taste in the praefect’s mouth.

But before he bothered the Smart Cookie once again, he needed to make sure. No sense in sending a regiment to check out these tunnels when he was already here, after all. Beyond the chamber she had made home, the unicorn had continued blasting away at the earth, although she had yet to widen the passage. Applebuck followed the path she had carved, squeezing through narrower and narrower holes, until finally he came upon a wide, open space.

The stallion coughed up dust and dirt that had accumulated in his lungs from the claustrophobic tunnel (if it could even be called a tunnel). After clearing his airwaves, he took a gander about the gaping cavern. At the end of a wide, arching bridge was a massive, golden door set between two dark, stone pillars. Braziers hanging from the pillars illuminated familiar runes and markings that decorated the door.

“Son of a bitch,” Applebuck breathed when he recognized the architecture from earlier: The entrance to a diamine ruin. In fact, he would bet his family’s farm that this door led to the same ruin being excavated by the hippogriff. There was no question: The Chancellor needed to hear about this.

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“GEARHEART!” Applebuck roared as he entered the cidery’s bar, the promise from earlier still fresh in the young praefect’s mind. The flustered stallion ran over to him, unaware of the ill will directed towards him.

“Well, its about time!” The praefect’s eyes bulged. It took his entire willpower and Gearheart’s next sentence to restrain himself from throttling the stallion right there and then. “I had to stall the Captain until you were finished!”

True to the bartender’s words, a few more ponies were occupying the bar then when Applebuck had left. The help that he had seen sweeping the floor was chatting up a mare dressed in iron armor, while her counterpart stood stoically beside another mare. This second mare was adorned in a complete set of ebony armor, barring the helmet. Her coat was a brilliant blue, and her mane was a vibrant white. And she was walking toward Gearheart and Applebuck.

“So, this must be the one you suckered into doing your dirty work for you,” she said as she approached. “Although I must admit I’m surprised to see you, Applebuck. Decided to become a sellsword, have you? Shame.”

“Well, actually–” stammered Gearheart, but he was cut off by a glare that promised a painful death from Applebuck. Satisfied the bartender was no longer going to talk, the praefect turned toward his former captain.

“Actually, I’m here to receive a signature for my petition,” he explained. The mare snorted amusedly.

“Petition? Going for the Gauntlet are you? You just keep rising through the ranks, no regard for whoever’s in your way. That’s what I always liked about you.”

“Thank you, Captain Gleaming Shield,” Applebuck replied with a nod.

“Yes, well, I’m not here for a nostalgic crying session. Now that you’ve taken care of your little pest problem, how about I get a taste of some of your cider?” Gleaming Shield’s guards nodded in agreement, and Gearheart plastered a fake smile on his face. As he led the Captain and her entourage to the bar, Applebuck hounded him for his signature.

“You’ll just have to wait until after the Captain’s finished,” he whispered. “I suppose you can wait around, if you want.”

Gleaming Shield sat down on the barstool directly in front of the taps. The stallion took a seat beside her, and the mare continued her conversation with the assistant. Gearheart waved to the third tap, presenting the mare of the hour with a mug.

“Help yourself, milady. It’s my finest brew yet; I call it: Passion Heart Reserve.” Gleaming nudged the mug underneath the tap, flicking a knob and filling the mug with the barrel’s contents: a rich golden-brown liquid. “I think you’ll find it quite pleasing to your palette.”

“Oh come now, this is cider!” Gleaming scoffed. “Not some wine to be sipped and savored.”

She tipped back the contents of the mug, draining it dry. She let the mug clatter back onto the bar as she took her time judging it.

“Well?” Gearheart asked impatiently.

The Captain of the Guard took another moment before she answered, and Applebuck had a sneaking suspicion she was teasing the brewmaster by making him wait. “Well, I deem it delicious enough to overlook your infestation once again,” she said simply. Gearheart breathed a sigh of relief.

Gleaming Shield removed herself from the bar. “Well, Gearheart, I would love to stay and chit chat, and maybe get drunk, but I have more pressing duties to attend to. Farewell.”

“Farewell to you as well, Captain!” Gearheart waved. “Come back soon!”

“Sure, and I’ll bring my archers with me; they could use the target practice,” she said over her shoulder as her companions fell in line behind her. “And may the Sun bless you when you run the Gauntlet, Applebuck. It’d be a shame if you died,” she added bluntly. As soon as the doors swung shut behind her, and Applebuck was sure she was out of hearing range, he turned to Gearheart, whose eyes went wide with fear.

“GEARHEART!”