Verrbon was running for his life.

In the Abyssal hierarchy, a quasit sat firmly near the bottom - but not at the bottom. A dretch? He could bully a dretch, weak little things that they were. Manes, too, being fresh souls from the material plane starting on their demonic journey. Verrbon was a solid century old now and was more clever and vicious than most of his kin. Just a few more decades he would have enough souls and magic to become a mighty vrock. Or, as he had thought, just one powerful soul with magic to spare. A stupid mortal that had dipped her stupid pony hooves into something far outside her ken.

“Get back here you strip of filth!” Twilight screamed, plowing right through some unlucky undead that hadn’t been paying attention.

The quasit spotted a rutterkin and angled toward it. Being little more than a mutated, bloated corpse it couldn’t catch the nimble little demon as it scampered between its legs, but it made for a decent obstacle for the murderous unicorn chasing him - until it let out such a horrifying scream of pain and terror that Verrbon almost tripped mid-stride. He was used to the sounds of death, but the meaty pop he heard cut-off the rutterkin’s anguished cry made even him shiver.

He risked a glance backwards and wished he hadn’t. The unicorn’s legs were glowing white now and her hooves were starting little fires wherever she galloped. Far behind them now was the burning lump(s) of flesh that had been the rutterkin. It’d been a vane hope anyway; if the unicorn had burst a devourer apart then what hope did anything nearby have? There weren’t likely to be any demons around worse than some undead or rutterkin this far out into Thanatos’ backcountry.

Unless… he were willing to draw his master into things. Though, that would certainly forfeit his life. If his master found out he might have dragged an aspect of that goddess here…

Well, getting burst apart and dying would be the least of Verrbon’s problems.

The quasit thought about trying to play the repentant servant again, but what were the chances the unicorn would even give him enough time to work up a good fake cry? Maybe a bargain? Small demon that he was, not many unicorns of a violent bent would turn down a demon’s service.

“I am going to rip out your spine and beat you with it until you send me back!”

Okay. No. Nope. No deals. There was only one real way out now, and it involved maybe drawing all sorts of worse attention. But what other chance did he have?

Something with wings, he thought. The quasit took a running leap into the air, launching himself off a tombstone like a springboard. His bones and skin rearranged themselves in the fastest transformation of his life as he took to the blighted sky as a large crow. Below him, he could feel the tingle of magic reaching out for him. The heat of it singed his feathers, growing so near he could feel the ghost of the grip around his neck.

Then, faintly - “Twilight Sparkle! Calm yourself this instant!” Abruptly, the telekinesis fell away.

He was free. Verrbon flapped his wings and rode a hellish updraft up and up and up until he was touching the oily, black clouds hanging over Thanatos.

Terrible things lurked up here, but better the demon you maybe know than the one you certainly don’t.

Defense in Depth, Chapter 20

“You didn’t tell me it was this bad,” Strauss accused. The stench was overwhelming the father into the basement he went, and there were another two sub-levels to go. The pony walking with him only grunted through the thick improvised mask he had tied over his muzzle. His compatriot, the honorable and ancient Sol Shard wasn’t even batting an eye. How many dank caves and basements had that old horse seen in his century-long life?

How many have I? Strauss thought. More in the last decade than in the three before it put together. He was a unicorn of fifty-two years now and few chantry heads could claim to have been out as often in the “magical weeds” as he had, but this was spoiling even his stomach.

His superior was unruffled beyond a few minor tells. It was only the tenseness of his lips that betrayed Sol Shard’s own disgust. For a moment Strauss might have thought that was just his general annoyance at being called away for something like this, since apparently Sunburst had better things to do, wherever he’d gotten off to, but that wasn’t the type of animal the ancient magister was. Sol Shard loved a puzzle, relished a challenge, so Strauss hadn’t been surprised that he’d invited himself along when the chantry journeymen had come back so shaken, begging for help from their leader.

Strauss had already been mentally adding more training onto their regiments, but the second the stench had hit him the thought evaporated. No amount of training could prepare a magister for what he and Sol Shard were going to find at the bottom of these steps; a pony either had the spine and stomach for it or they didn’t.

“I wonder if this has anything to do with our problem out in the desert?” Strauss considered aloud.

The detective walking with them only gave the pair a quick, curious glance; he was too busy pushing down his revolution. Himself unbothered, Sol Shard hummed at the question. “Perhaps. The timing is suspicious. I’m not willing to jump to any conclusions just yet, though.”

Fair. Strauss chastised himself mentally for voicing his thoughts just yet. It was premature, at this junction, and if the sheer repulsiveness of the atmosphere hadn’t been so bad it could have led to some awkward rumors getting around the LPPD. Although they often worked with the Magisterium on arcane issues and monster hunts, it was better to keep them in the dark about things in their earliest stages, to keep untrained ponies from getting underfoot.

Not that overzealous police were a problem at the moment. The attending detective led them into a musty basement with a ceiling so low they all had to duck their heads. Las Pegasus was a vibrant, economic powerhouse now, but it hadn’t always been. In fact, the cloud city was the new bit - the bones of the city were in Applewood, a tiny mountaintop settlement dating back all the way to the time of Princess Platinum. I’d been a harsh outpost of wildcat miners and prospectors until the pegasi had moved in and planted their cloud city right on top.

What that left was a shiny veneer of modernity built atop squat earth pony dwellings almost as old as Celestia. Untold passageways and ancient mines littered the mountains and monsters were a constant issue to keep under control as they crawled up from their deep mountain nests. Unless Celestia herself decided to clean out the entire mountain range there was little to be done other than set up a network of alarms and detection spells.

Of course, nothing had gone off in this home, or even on this block. All was clear, according to the spell matrix a few houses over. Obvious tampering. They were clearly dealing with a unicorn that understood their craft (Strauss hoped, prayed, that it was a unicorn because a monster that knew such magical nuances would be infinitely more of a headache).

“You’ll want some light,” the detective told them, voice muffled by his mask, but obviously distressed. His steps were getting shakier the farther he led them into the inky blackness of the basement.

Strauss gave his leader a look. Thankfully, they were of a similar mind. “Detective, we can take it from here if you and your ponies would like to wait outside.” Smiling in that fatherly way the old stallion had perfected decades ago, he laid a weathered hoof on the detective’s shoulder. “It would actually be a great help to us, if you were to interview some of the neighbors to see what they might have heard or seen. You never know if a monster nest could be connected to other buildings.”

The poor detected actually saluted. “O-Of course! I’ll just… I’ll go conduct some interviews.” The poor stallion couldn’t have retreated back up the stairs any faster. “I’ll have a report ready when you’re done down here!” he called back over his shoulder.

Strauss shook his head. “Our taxes at work,” he sniped. “Inspiring how dedicated they are.”

“Indeed,” Sol Shard murmured. His horn lit and a soft glow illuminated the squat little basement. It wasn’t the most complicated of spells, but Strauss was still casually impressed with the uniformity of the light. So many unicorns treated their horns like flashlights instead of being proper mages.

“I suppose that’s it,” the chantry master said, eyes catching on a crumbled bit of wall at the far end of the basement. The whole thing had been made out of badly-carved bricks and several had been pushed over, creating a sort of tunnel.

The pair walked over to it. The smell of rot was surely coming from the hole and this close it was almost overpowering, even for a seasoned magister like Strauss. Admitting defeat, he finally cast a spell to put a magical filter over his head. Whether or not Sol Shard had done the same, he hadn’t seen.

“Look at the bricks,” the old stallion said, pointing to the pile. “They’ve been pushed out, from behind. Seems like something might have come up from below.”

Not good. This had all the trappings of a major monster den. The only worry Strauss allowed himself on the outside, though, was a slight shift of his legs. “Perhaps I should go fetch my golem? It would be more useful against the worst things in this mountain.”

Sol Shard thought for a moment, but shook his head. “Call it, but we’re going to press on. I want to see what it is we are dealing with, and if it would be a good match for our new ward.” Ducking, he squeezed through the gap in the wall.

Strauss mentally sent his animated gargoyle a command to find them, as well as a general idea of what the plan was. The stupid homonculous couldn’t answer him back, but it would be sure to find them for all of the compulsion spells Strauss had layed upon it.

His fearless leader was already gone and out of sight. Strauss took a step toward the hole, but his left lingered in the air, his first step aborted for the moment. Warm air brushed against his coat and face, like something was taking massive breaths right in front of his nose.

Like the hole was really some monster’s gullet he was willingly walking into. Like the remaining stones above his head were teeth, ready to come down and crunch him the second he was past the threshold.

“Ridiculous,” he harshly whispered to himself. It was only a monster den and a few bodies; nothing to be afraid of. Was he no better than his journeyman? Did the Chantry Head of Las Pegasus quail at darkness? Of course he did not.

The fit was tight. Sol Shard, thin in his age, was making better time ahead of him. Strauss was no sedentary pony, but there were places his barrel got stuck and he had to squeeze. The walls were unsettlingly warm to the touch and even his filter spell couldn’t shield him from that. The whole endeavor was starting to feel like he was traveling down some creature’s massive throat and he found it more difficult to push the thought away the narrower the tunnel became.

“Almost through,” Sol Shard called from somewhere up ahead. His light was a dim glow around the bend of the tunnel that seemed to flicker like a lanturn.

The old stallion might be feeling his age, Strauss thought as he squeezed through the last bend in the tunnel. Sol Shard was waiting on him, but his spell seemed to have evened itself out. Now the light was firm and steady in the darkness. The ancient magister’s face was troubled, though. His eyes were staring past Strauss, eyebrows slightly drawn, deep in thought.

He startled when the chantry head stepped over to him. “Are you alright?” Strauss asked, whispering.

Sol Shard slowly nodded. “Something is… not right. Tell me what you hear.”

It was a strange question, but Strauss perked his ears up. “Water,” he said, after a moment, “but far off. Are we in a cavern?”

“A large one. I can’t find the edges with my light.”

“Should we risk something brighter? What could be down here that the two of us could not face?”

Silence, for a few moments. “Trying to be the upbeat one, Strauss? I must be in a state.”

“A bit unnerved, perhaps.” The younger stallion prepared his own illumination spell that slowly pushed out from his horn. Sol Shard didn’t stop him. Strauss’s spell slinked across the floor in fits and leaps, crawling into every crack and cranny it could like water.

The bodies weren’t a surprise. Not even the state they were in, a jumble of half-eaten bits and pieces, was too shocking. Monsters were messy eaters and it didn’t matter to them that the meat they were consuming had been a living, thinking thing once. They didn’t have reverence for the dead.

The amount, though…

Even Strauss felt a spark of sympathetic anger burn through his clinical disposition at the sight of the jumbled stack of corpses. There must have been the remains of a dozen or so ponies there, haphazardly strewn in a refuse pile a few yards away from the basement opening the two magisters had exited from.

And the size of the cavern was concerning as well since there were signs of excavation. Not claw marks, but instead deep ploughs in the stone. Like a giant pony had dug through the rock with their dull hooves.

Sol Shard was looking at the bodies when Strauss turned his attention back. “Whatever we are looking for wants brain matter,” he muttered, anger bleeding through his wizened, raspy voice.

Strauss could have asked if Sol Shard would think it best to hand this over to his future replacement, but he held his tongue. He could see the steel in the stallion’s eyes - he wasn’t leaving this place until whatever was down here was dead.

“The undead?” Strauss asked. He was mentally going through his bestiary and trying to pick out what fit all these disparate clues. “Mind flayers?” Dear Celestia, let it not be mind flayers.

“Too messy for them and too clean for the undead,” Sol Shard answered. “No, whatever killed these ponies specifically targeted their heads and only nibbled on the rest. And I believe it to be a single creature and not a nest.”

“A single creature? Something that could make a cavern this large without alerting the chantry?” Strauss couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice; the entire mountain was warded for just this type of incursion.

Sol Shard’s horn began to glow in a soft light. He jerked his head and a ball of wispy energy sailed into the air in a wide arc until, at the very peak, it burst into a thousand shards of light that glittered in the darkness. It wasn’t a spell that Strauss recognized, but he could feel its magic tugging at him as the snowfall of light tickled at his exposed coat.

Slowly intricate symbols began to glow along the walls of the cavern, standing out in the darkness like cattle brands. “Counterwards. I am willing to wager that they are directly opposed to the nearest batch of monitoring wards in this neighborhood.”

Such a feat wasn’t possible by a simple dark magic meddler. “Someone didn’t want this nest to be found. I believe we may have discovered your necromancer,” Strauss hypothesized.

Sol Shard nodded. His magelight drifted over the walls, following the glowing runes etched in the stone, until it came to a narrow little passageway on the far wall. What light shined into it was soon blocked by a twist in the tunnel a few feet in, hiding whatever was farther beyond in crouching darkness.

“Far be it from me to question your wisdom, but perhaps we should-”

“We can’t lose the element of surprise,” Sol Shard preempted. “They escaped us in the desert, but we cannot allow them to go to ground here in the city. At the very least, we must discover what manner of beast they are using.”

Unwittingly, Strauss’ eyes were drawn toward the dark portal at the far end of the cavern, where the light wouldn’t penetrate. Some ancient prey instinct was telling him to not go there, that there was nothing for a pony beyond it. Years of focused training tempered the frantic edge of panic that would have otherwise started to descend upon him, but his steps were hesitant.

A few spans ahead, Sol Shard looked back over his shoulder. “Perhaps you should…?”

He left the question hanging. Like bait on a hook, Strauss thought, a flash of anger going through him. His mind couldn’t help but turn towards decades past, when it would have been a test. One that, years ago, Strauss had always guessed he had failed when the high magister had chosen a different journeyman as his preferred student.

The stallion steadied his breathing. “Simply watching my footing,” he said, catching up with a few quick trots. Sol Shard nodded and turned back to the work ahead, but not before Strauss caught the relieved look on the magister’s face that he hadn’t been left down here alone.

As they descended into the deeper darkness, though, Strauss sent one more mental command to his golem: hurry.

Author's Note

Another day, another chapter. Sorry it was a bit longer than the other ones. I might not update again for a month or so - college finals and a long vacation - but I'll get back into the swing of things next month.

For a reminder, here's the bestiary for the dnd monster that Verrbon, the quasit, is!

Also, another new denizen of the Abyss! The rutterkin!

Next few chapters are back to Twilight's Bizarre Adventure in Hell, so look forward to those!