The Legend of Lunar: The Pony Hunterby BattleSwineChaptersPrologueChapter One: In Which Lunar Does Nothing Of ImportanceChapter Two: In Which Lunar Meets Some Old FriendsChapter Three: In Which Lunar Goes To A BarChapter Four: In Which Lunar Dances With BabesChapter Five: In Which Lunar Sees Dead PeopleChapter Six: In Which Lunar Goes CampingPrologue"Dawn! Look at how high I can bounce!" "Wow! You almost touched the ceiling!" Orion jumped again, but rather than trailing his fingers along the ceiling, as he'd done before, his foot slipped on the corner of the bed and he tumbled to the floor, prompting another fit of giggles from him and his little sister. However, their mirth was quickly silenced when they heard the soft click-clack of their uncle's talons coming up the stairs. The door creaked open, and Uncle's face appeared. He frowned at the sight of Orion on the floor, tangled in his blankets, and Dawn beside him, clutching her favorite stuffed manticore doll. Uncle raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I put you kids to bed half an hour ago?" "But Uncle, we're too excited to sleep!" cried Orion from beneath the blanket, as Dawn stifled another giggle. "Sure enough, the one night your mama calls me to babysit is on Resurrections Eve." Uncle sighed, but there was a smile on his face. "You kids pumped for the festival tomorrow?" "Yeah!' "Yay!" "Good, good. But you guys gotta get your sleep, so you're not bone tired before the party even starts!" He scooped up Orion in his arms and Dawn in his tail, and tucked them both back into bed. "And if you tykes aren't in dreamland by the time your mama and daddy get home, all three of us are going to be in trouble." Using his tail to pull up a chair and cracking open a beer he'd brought upstairs with him, Uncle asked, "So, what'll it be, kiddos? Lullaby? Your Auntie Shy taught me a couple good ones." "Uncle!" Orion crossed his arms, indignant. "Lullabies are for babies!" "Yeah, babies!" His little sister mimicked the motion with her hooves. "Tell us a story!" Their uncle took a sip of his beer and blew a puff of smoke. "Well, what kind of story do you want, then?" Orion wanted, "Adventure and action!" So, of course, Dawn wanted, "Romance and mystery!" "Hmm..." Uncle rubbed his chin for a moment. Then, his eyes suddenly lit up like fireworks. "I know the perfect one! How about I tell you kids the story of the very first Resurrection Day?" "The very first Resurrection Day?" The siblings said together. "Yup, the very first Resurrection Day." Uncle grinned devilishly before promising, "It'll be just like you were there, yourselves." He took a deep breath and blew smoke about the room. However, unlike his normal smoke, this stuff was purple and smelled funny. Orion and Dawn felt their minds opening up, like lotus blossoms in the moonlight. What Uncle said was true. It was as if they were there, themselves. "It began many years ago, not long before Orion was born, on a warm summer night, just like tonight..." Chapter One: In Which Lunar Does Nothing Of ImportanceIt began many years ago, on a warm summer night. A young man (in about his mid-twenties) sat before a small fire, petting his black pony. Not a magical pony, mind you, just an ordinary, normal pony. At least, ordinary and normal in the way that she was not magical. Amongst non-magical ponies, however, she was rather exceptional. She was fiercely loyal to the young man, and would follow him through the seven circles of Tartarus if need be. In addition to this, she was highly intelligent and was trained to do many tricks, like coming whenever the young man whistled. This pony's name was Polaris, which means North Star. She was named so because of the distinctive star marking on her forehead. The young man was not magical, either, but that goes without saying, as magical humans don't exist. But just as with his pony, his lack of magical-ness did not make him ordinary. Rather, it made him extraordinary. You see, the young man had a gift: Pony magic could not touch him. Now, ordinary magic, like potions or charms, those worked just fine, but if a spell came from a pony, it would always miss or fizzle out, rather than hitting him. This sort of thing was completely unique, and it was what made him the best pony hunter who ever lived. The young man's name was Lunar Everfree Ponisbane. His first name came from his mother's sister, who died before he was born. His middle name came from the forest he was born in. His last name was his father's. And so the non-magical young man sat, petting his non-magical horse, before a non-magical fire, contemplating his very magical life. "Who'd have thunk, that after eight years, we'd be coming back here." He gazed down upon his hometown of Ponyville (A rather ominous name, they might as well have called it 'Devilstown' or 'Demon City') from the cliffside. He hadn't been planning on coming back, too many memories. But sometimes plans change. He pulled out the letter again. It was in a familiar script that was reduced to a scrawl, due to haste. Dear Lunar, As much as I hate to trouble you, Lu, I don't know who else could help me. I've been understandably busy of late, I don't have the time to faff around, so I'll give it to you straight; I need you to come back. Now, before you feed this to Polaris, hear me out. Crops have been going missing right out of the fields, soap and other supplies vanishing from storefronts with no one to blame. We don't have any evidence so far, but we think it might be ponies. Also, this is probably unrelated, but some kids have gone missing, twenty-something of them. I thought that Tedi could handle it, but all he's done is put out a curfew and question the families. Something's changed about him since I gave him that Sheriff's badge. He sleeps all day and only comes out at night, if he does at all, and when he does, he snaps at everyone who talks to him. Maybe the power is going to his head, but I get the feeling he doesn't care about those kids. You know I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important, Lu. Please come as soon as possible! Your old friend, Flannery Moyra, Esteemed Mayor of Ponyville For the thousandth time, he wondered if it was a trap. He'd made many friends in his travels, but he'd also made many enemies. Supernatural enemies. Draculus, the unkillable God-King of the Vampires was still hunting him. Harris, the Alpha Werewolf, promised twenty of his finest females for Lunar's head. Vanna Bog, the Black Witch, wanted him taken alive so she could harvest spell ingredients, it was also assumed that she had a little crush on him. And that was just a few from a long list. He was a Supernaturalist, a man among gods, immortals, and creatures with powers beyond Human understanding. But he was, first and foremost, a Pony Hunter. He knew what friendship was. And he had a friend in danger, it was his job to help her out. No matter the cost. Chapter Two: In Which Lunar Meets Some Old Friends"C'mon, Sweetheart!" "Let go of me!" The sun had just set when they came for her. She'd been reading up on lunar cycles when a large man busted into her house, startling Owlowiscious. She'd been so startled herself that she'd barely struggled when he'd handcuffed, gagged, and blindfolded her, telling her that she was under arrest. The large man shoved her roughly, causing her to stumble. He grabbed her by the shoulder and practically threw her up the stairs. The wooden floor gave slightly beneath her. Her blindfold fell off and she saw that she stood atop a trap door. A noose swung idly next to her. A silent, judging crowd surrounded the gallows on which she currently stood. Unseen hands removed her gag. An authoritative voice behind her stated plainly. "Twyla Eclipsis Sparkle, you stand accused of the crime of Ponydom. How do you plead?" "What? No, I'm not a pony!" She swallowed and tried to keep calm. This was all a mistake. "Not guilty!" "That's what they all say..." The voice muttered, before asking in a loud voice, "Where are the children, Twlya?" This was followed by a long, tense silence. "Where's my daughter, pony?" A man shouted from the back of the crowd. The crowd erupted. "Where are they, filthy horse!?" "They take our children, they take our crops! Everything we have!" "Our town is starving, while monsters like you fatten yourselves on our hard work!" "I say hang the bitch! Hang 'em all!' Twyla's eyes widened, as these townspeople she'd known for months turned on her so quickly, with no evidence to speak of, other than one man's word and their own fear. Her disbelief turned to hysterical tears as she felt a noose tighten around her neck. "No! You can't do this! I'm not a pony!" she cried. How could they do this? Ending her life would not solve anything. It was pointless. There were still so many things she wanted to do, she'd never even kissed a boy. "You can't do this..." she whispered. The man who handcuffed her leaned close to her ear and replied, "I'm the Sheriff, I can do what I want." The Sheriff stiffened and the crowd grew silent, as a pair of stilettos clacked their way up to the gallows. It was the Mayor. The broadsword strapped across her back stood out against her professional blouse and jacket. She stomped up the gallows stairs and placed her hands on her hips. "Tedi, just what in the blackest pit of Tartarus do you think you're doing?" He stepped forward to meet her. Twyla hadn't gotten a good look at him when he was tying her up. He was tall and well-muscled. His face was wrinkled and he had a big, black mustache that matched his black hair, black boots, and long, black coat. "That's Sheriff Reaver to you, and I'm hanging a pony, what does it look like I'm doing?" The petite Mayor met the intimidating Sheriff full force. "I'll call you whatever I damn well please, and you're not hanging anything without my say-so!" "You gave me your say-so the same day you gave me this badge!" He snarled as he tapped said badge with a gloved finger. Many faces in the crowd winced as the Mayor railed into him. "I gave you that badge so you could keep law and order in this town, not spread fear and chaos, and commit anyone who looks at you funny! What'd she do, Tedi? Turn you down? Remind you that every unmarried woman in this town isn't your personal whore?" The Sheriff's hand slid to the cutlass at his belt and his voice became dangerously low. "Just what, exactly, are you accusing me of, Ms. Mayor?" The Mayor's eyes narrowed and her hand shot to her weapon, as well. An ear-splitting boom tore through the night. The rope above Twyla's head exploded in a shower of hemp, and the noose fell limp against her back. Every head in the square turned toward the sound. An oddly dressed young man sat astride a shadow-black horse. He wore a pair of odd, deep-grey chaps over a pair of brown trousers, and rather than a shirt, his bare chest was criss-crossed with black leather straps affixed with silver buckles. A brass hand-cannon was attached to his outstretched arm, barrel smoking. "Sorry I'm late, Flanny." He glanced at the rope around Twyla's neck. "I guess we're all a little tied up lately." The Mayor grinned at the sight of him. "Thank the Gods! Here I thought you weren't going to come!" The man shrugged. "It sounded important, and it is my job, after all." The Sheriff bared his teeth. "Just who the Hell are you supposed to be? Wait, let me rephrase that: Who the Hell do you think you are?" "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Tedi Bear. We used to play 'Cops and Robbers" together." The man dismounted and strode toward the gallows, folding up his cannon and clipping it to his back. The crowd parted before him, out of fear or respect. Possibly both. "You always wanted to be the robber." "Lunar? Is that you? Can't be. The Lunar I knew was a pushover and a coward. Surely he'd have changed in eight years." He shook his head. "Where've you been off to? Chasing fairies and goblins?" "Actually, no." Lunar stepped up onto the gallows. He and the Sheriff were the same height. "You call an exterminator for fairies and goblins. They're pests. You call me for the big stuff." The Sheriff smirked. "A Supernaturalist, eh? Well, If you're such an expert on the subject, why don't you tell our good Mayor that this young girl before us is not a young girl at all, but rather, a pony in disguise!" Lunar smiled good-naturedly. He had a pleasant face, with a strong jaw and just the slightest bit of stubble. His eyes were brown and matched his short hair. "Of course, Tedi Bear. Be glad to." The Sheriff gritted his teeth at the use of his silly childhood nickname. He watched as Lunar approached Twyla. She flinched away. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." As he stooped to pull a few objects from his bag, Twyla noticed a pair of cross hatched tattoos on either side of his neck. "Yet. I'm just going to do a few tests." He held a jar of liquid to her lips. "Here, taste this. I promise it's not poison." What choice did she have? Her delicate tongue flitted out and tapped the surface of the liquid. The tiny drop lit a bonfire in her mouth. She gasped. "Whew. Spicy." He nodded and pulled out an ordinary, unassuming seed, pressing it to her cheek. Her flesh tingled where he touched her. After a few seconds of nothing happening, he nodded again, putting the seed away. He knelt down in front of her and looked her in the eyes. "If you really aren't a pony, I apologize in advance for this next one. It's a bit... invasive." Before she could ask what he was doing, his head was underneath her dress, his fingers flitting over her legs. It was unexpected, if not entirely unpleasant, and she gasped. Her breath caught as he pulled down her underwear, revealing her pale, finely shaped buttocks. After only a heartbeat, he pulled them back up, clicking his tongue with satisfaction. Popping out from beneath her petticoats, Lunar unlocked the handcuffs. "Sorry about that, Miss," He muttered. "But I had to check for a Cutie Mark. It's the one thing they can't disguise" Then, louder. "This woman is not a pony, and she is not to blame for the Ponyville's woes. Go on home, everyone." The Sheriff held up an arm. "Woah, wait, hold up. She has to be a pony! Look at her hair, look at her eyes!" Lunar looked. "Yes, Tedi, what about them?" "They're purple!" "And a very pretty shade at that. But, while abnormal hair and eye coloring is a common symptom among disquised ponies, it is far from a defining trait. Maybe she had an incident dying clothes, maybe she suffers from simultaneous cases of purpura capillus and purpura oculus. It isn't the strangest thing I've seen in this job, which, I'll remind you, ended when I said she wasn't a pony. Have a good night." "Wait one second, Lunar. Not every pony has a Cutie Mark. When an Alicorn disguises itself, it shows no outward symptoms!" The Sheriff grinned maliciously when he saw the anger in Lunar's eyes. The Lunar's voice became deadly. "A good point, Sheriff, but a moot one. Everyone here knows that my father died killing the last Alicorn fifteen years ago. I'm the Pony Hunter here, and I say that this girl is just as Human as you or me." The Mayor put her arm around Lunar again. "Tedi, you are no longer in charge of Pony investigations. You will turn any evidence you have gathered so far over to Lunar. As long as he remains in Ponyville, you will consider him your superior." The Sheriff's brow furrowed in an expression of disbelief. "You can't do that!" "I'm the Mayor, I can do what I want." Chapter Three: In Which Lunar Goes To A BarThe crowd was dispersed. The Sheriff skulked off to whatever hole he'd come from. Twyla was escorted back to her home. Lunar and the Mayor made their way back to town hall. The door to the Mayor's office closed behind them. Flannery stuck out her hand out to Lunar. "Thanks for helping out back there. I don't know what would have happened if you had't shown up." Rather than shaking her hand, Lunar shook his head and spread his arms. "It hasn't been that long, Flanny Cakes." Flannery accepted the hug, and eight years of separation melted away in a singe heartbeat. "Gods, I'm glad you're back." She broke it and flopped back in her chair. "Things have really be going to the dogs, lately." Lunar sat down as well. "Well, I'm here now. I'll do whatever you need me to. This is my town, too." "I'm glad to hear that, Lu." She tossed him a large bag of coin. "That's your down payment, you get the rest when bring me some ponies. I set up a room down at Mortha's inn, that's where you'll be staying." "Mortha runs the inn, now?" "Oh, you know Mortha. She had an eye on the place even before you left. We should probably head there, now, so you can get settled. I'm sure you're tired after such a long trip." "I'm not, but Polaris probably is. They have stables, right?" And so, the Mayor and the Hunter made their way to the inn across town. Many familiar faces came to greet him, shake his hand, admire his equipment. As the six-time winner of the Supernaturalist Extraordinaire Award, Lunar was something of a celebrity in the Kingdom of Questria. Flannery counted herself lucky to be childhood friends with him. Some did not. Tedi was likely regretting that friendship now, and Lunar was the focus of more than one angry glare as he led Polaris through the town. They arrived before the Deep's Inn without incident. Lunar raised an eyebrow. The Deep was the home dimension of the Eldri, a race of tentacled abominations that thought of human beings as food or slaves, depending on the individual. Why would Mortha name an inn after such a horrid place? No, he was just being paranoid. Mortha probably didn't even know about the Deep. She probably just thought it sounded cool. Lunar opened the double doors, and was reminded why he should trust his instincts. Behind the bar was a Lesser Eldri. It stood on four armored, segmented legs, with tentacles dangling beneath the thorax where they met. Connected to the thorax was an almost-human torso topped with a disgusting insectoid head. Lunar's handcannon was in his hand almost instantly. With the flip of a switch, the cannon switched to 'Dragon Breath' rounds. When in doubt, kill it with fire. "When you get back to the Deep, tell Cthulhu that Lunar sent you." To Lunar's surprise, the beast actually replied, the Eldrish speech echoing near the base of his skull. Peace upon you, Hunter. I'd rather you didn't send me back to the Deep. They are not fond of me there. "Lu! Stop pointing that gun at Robin!" Flannery shoved the barrel down, then stood in front of the Eldri, blocking Lunar's shot. "Robin? You named it?" "What's going on out here?" Mortha, the owner of the Deep's Inn, clacked down the stairs. In Lunar's absence, she'd filled out, from an awkward teenager into one of the loveliest women in Ponyville. She gasped when she caught sight of Lunar and gasped. "Lu? Where in the Deep have you been? Gods, it's been what, eight years?" Lunar growled and gestured at 'Robin' with his cannon. "Am I the only one who's upset about the tentacled freak gallivanting about with no bleeding holes in him?" Both women ignored him. Flannery pushed Lunar's gun barrel away from the abomination again. "I'm sorry about this, Mortha, I really should have warned him before we came, but I've had kind of a crazy night." "It's alright, Flanny. I'm sure Lunar will understand if I explain." Mortha approached Lunar and gently pulled down her eyelid. "I'm not enthralled. Check my eyes, Lu. Neither is Flanny, or anybody in here." "I know you're not enthralled, any Supernaturalist worth the title would be able to tell that. That's why I'm wondering why you are not concerned about this!" I will explain. Images flashed through Lunar's mind at the speed of thought. Alien images seen through alien eyes. My Eldrish name is Rbńthlÿd, which means 'Unruly Child'. I was named such because among my people, I am rather young, though I existed long before your people ruled this planet. I have long disagreed with my elders on many subjects. As punishment, they forced me into this plane of existence. Lunar watched the memory through Rbńthlÿd's eyes. It could sometimes take an Eldri years to accustom themselves to the constraints of a physical body, even in secluded places, like the bottom of the sea. Rbńthlÿd manifested in a pond in the Everfree Forest. He was nearly torn apart by predators within the first five minutes. It was pure luck that he materialized in the same pond that was Mortha's favorite fishing hole. At the time, Mortha hadn't known what he was, only that he was injured and needed help. She nursed him back to health, introduced him to the town, and gave him a job. The rest was history. Lunar wanted desperately to not believe him. But he could not. Eldrish was a language of thoughts and feelings. A connection between minds. Robin could no easier lie to Lunar than Lunar could lie to himself. The Hunter put his cannon away. "Fine. Great. The abomination can stay. But you listen here, 'Robin'; If you put even one tentacle out of line, and I find out, then your ass is sushi." While it is safe to assume that all creatures deemed 'supernatural' by your kind are evil, sometimes safe is not always best. "Whatever. I'll have a scotch." Right away, Hunter. Chapter Four: In Which Lunar Dances With BabesFlannery could not escape her mayoral duties for long. About a quarter of the way through a bottle of Mortha's finest scotch, a runner called her back to the town hall on urgent business. Mortha, of course, had a business to run, so she couldn't converse for very long. After a while, she was called away, leaving Lunar alone. The Pony Hunter may have been a resident of Ponyville at one point, but after wandering for almost a decade, he was now an outsider. No one approached him as he drank alone, the silver spurs on his boots jangling as he lightly tapped his foot to the beat of whatever song the band happened to be playing at the moment. Robin kept the golden liquid in his glass at a reasonable level. For the longest time, Lunar sat alone. By himself. Just as Robin was refilling his glass a fourth time, the door opened with the pleasant chime of a bell, and the inn grew quiet. The Hunter turned to see the strange purple-haired girl who was on the brink of execution when he arrived. She'd cleaned herself up and put on a nice dress, looking far more composed than when he'd seen her last. She sauntered up to the bar and ordered a girly drink, taking a seat on a stool two down from him. Lunar slammed the rest of his drink, threw some coin on the bar, and hustled out. In the stables, Polaris whickered at her rider. "I panicked, alright? What was I supposed to do? Wait for her to talk to me?" The pony kicked the stable wall and snorted. "Honestly, I'd rather be rude than have whatever conversation we were going to have. She was either going to thank me for saving her or berate me for stuffing my head under her skirt in front of the whole town. Maybe both. Either way, it was Tedi's fault for trying to solve the pony problem with a public lynching. No grasp of subtlety, that one." Polaris shook her head and laid down. Lunar sat next to her and unfolded his cannon, propping himself against the wall so he could have a view of both doors. "Besides, you didn't see her. She was gorgeous. How is a guy like me supposed to talk to a girl like her?" The horse blew out a long breath through her nose and fell asleep. Lunar sat and closed his eyes, and listened to the sounds of the night. In the morning, he purchased a pumpkin. He also purchased three bushels of apples, a bushel each of carrots and cabbage, and leased a cart to carry them with. Then, he rolled them down the Sheriff's office and paid Tedi a visit. "I really could give a flying rat's ass what Flannery wants, those kids are my investigation, and if she thinks that she can just march some virtual stranger into town and expect me to just hand over all my work... Hey!" Lunar had stopped listening and begun digging through the evidence files, which Tedi had left out on the desk. They were notably bare. "This is it? Kids have been going missing for months and this is all you have?" "I'm not going to make excuses. You know better than I do what we're up against." The sheriff threw up his hands and stood, going to the liquor cabinet. "Fine. You've already been paid out of the good people's pocket, I might as well get some use out of you." He poured drinks for the two of them and leaned back in his chair. Lunar took his politely and continued to sift through the parchments. "These curfews aren't going to help anything. Ponies work by day, in plain sight. They avoid staying in towns overnight, prefering wooded or wild areas." "What if they have sympathizers, or thralls?" "No chance. They hate our kind more than we hate theirs." Lunar looked over the maps. "Why haven't you sent any riders into the Everfree? That would have been the first place I looked. "You haven't heard?" Tedi poured himself another drink. "Figure'd you'd already talked to Brother Patch." "I stopped by on my way into town. The Quilt was empty." After Lunar was found wandering in the woods as a child, he'd been given to the Quilt. Brother Patch had given him his schooling, his Patchwork Knights had taught him how to defend himself and conduct himself with honor. When he'd left Ponyville, the Quilt had been the home he missed. "You woudn't find him there. The Knights have set up a temporary Quilt down by the Quiet Cottage. The Forest has gone berserk. Timber wolves and worse have been hitting the farms out there hard. Apparently the last expedition in didn't go so well, either; twenty Knights ventured into the fog, one came back." This caught Lunar's attention. "Really? Where is he now?" Tedi shook his head. "Six feet under, now, poor bastard. His hands were cut off, and he had a crack in his head so big I'm surprised his brain didn't fall out on the way back. He didn't have any information, either, he'd just keep babbling about how the moon was too bright, and every once in a while he'd start screaming for no reason. Patch did what he could, but apparently he died in his sleep a day later." "You're sure they were cut off? Not bitten or ripped off?" "I dunno, I just saw the body, but if I had to guess, I'd say they were smashed, with a big rock maybe. But, you should ask Brother Patch about that, I'm no flesh-tailor." "Well, it definitely sounds like ponies, but I'm not gonna file any reports until I have something solid. In the meantime, I suggest you lift the curfew and set up some checkpoints. Check for unfamiliar faces, people travelling alone, but don't arrest anybody yet. People with odd hair or eye color are suspicious, but not automatically dangerous." Tedi rolled his eyes, pouring himself yet another drink. "Any more helpful tips to shower on us mortals, O Wise One?" "Maybe go easy on that stuff." Lunar pointed at the whiskey. "Other than that, I'm sure you can handle it." "It's not like it's my job or anything." Tedi shook his head again. "Remember, Lu, these are my people, I care about them." "I grew up here, too, Tedi." "But you've been gone a long time. Things change. People change." "...True. Take care of yourself, Ted." "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means, believe it or not, that it's good to see you again after all this time." Lunar stood and moved for the door. Tedi grunted and waved dismissively, turning his attention to his reports. "Get out of my office, Lunar. Don't come back until you've got some ponies. You're on the clock." "Well, fuck you, too." "What was that?" "I told you to go fuck yourself, Tedi." Chapter Five: In Which Lunar Sees Dead People"Yeah, I know you're getting sick of pulling the damn cart, but I can't pull it, and we need it for the job." Polaris snorted. "Well, we're a team, and I don't think you could do my job." Polaris snorted again, still indignant. The pair approached the Quiet Cottage in disguise, not quite sure what they would find. A temporary Quilt billowed atop long poles, pieced together from old clothes and sheets, banners and flags from those noble Houses the Quilt has absorbed, and even patches of monster- and man-skin leftover from hundred of years of Stitchings. Despite it's size, this Quilt was dwarfed by the one back in Ponyville, more of a glorified tent than a proper place of worship. The morale among the Patchwork Knights was one of weariness and boredom. They huddled about fires, playing dice and drinking mead, talking quietly among the sober, and laughing loudly among the drunk. Growing up among these men and being an honorary Knight himself, Lunar couldn't help but search for familiar faces, and be disappointed when he found few. Clearly the Knights of Brother Patch's flock had been under heavy conflict for some time. On that note, Lunar pulled his Smoke Mirror shard from around his neck to guide him to the Knight's local boot hill, and from there to the grave of the Knight who'd returned from the Everfree without his brothers or his hands. It was a typical Patchwork grave, the dirt still fresh and mounded like so many others. It would have been indistinguishable from the dozens of others on the hill, but the power of the shattered Smoke Mirror was already pulling the Knight from the ground, partially rotted stubs clawing out of the freshly-turned gravesoil to answer the call. The Knight himself was only a week or two dead, and frightening for it. His skull was exposed, and he was naked but for his quilted cape in tatters around him. He pulled himself partially from his hole, dirt gathering around his waist. Lunar dismounted while Polaris eyed the corpse suspiciously. Another reason she was an excellent mount for a Supernaturalist was she did not fear the dead. The Knight watched right back, his eyes milky and blind. Kneeling next to him, Lunar pulled the shard from around his neck and held it out in front of the corpse. It held the shard pinched between it's two stubs, peering at it's own reflection, it's dead eyes roaming over it's rotting face, lingering where it's now-decomposed nose had been, gazing into the holes where his cheeks had been. It's jaw ratcheted, dead lungs working air through dead pipes. It spoke in a voice that was part magical, and part terribly real. "I'm dead, aren't I?" "Yeah, unfortunately." "It... hurts, man. Why... Why did you bring me back? How?" "I used a shard of the Smoke Mirror to pull a reflection of your soul back into your body. I need you to tell me what killed you." The corpse shuddered, feeling the back of it's head. "My head...I can feel the crack in it. My brain is broken, man." "That's why I'm asking your soul. Tell me your name, that might help." "My name is... Mikal. Mikal Steelrich, son of Cane. I was a Patchwork Knight." "May the Quilt warm you as you wander. Try to remember, Mikal, or more may end up like you and your brothers." "It's getting clearer... By the Quilt, it hurts... Brother Patch had us bound to the Eclipse Ruins to set up a base camp, then the rest of the Quilt would follow our footsteps. Two days... We were two days out, gonna reach the ruins in the morning. We were cutting loose, playing some dice and having some drinks, watching the sun set. Then the sentries didn't come back. We knew that things were going too smoothly, suddenly it hit us... Whatever was in the forest had been waiting, waiting for us to go to deep. It had us by the balls, then. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Ugh...Why did you do this to me?" "Focus, Mikal, it will be over soon. What did? Ponies?" "...Some. Yeah, there were definitely ponies. Some humans, too, or maybe ponies in human form. It was fully dark by the time they hit in force... Oh, by the Quilt... " "Can you describe any of them?" "They hit the camp when I was out rocking a piss. That's why they didn't kill me right away, I think. I could smell the blood before I even saw anything. Almost no one was left, Perrell was begging them to let him go. They were piling up the bodies, Higgs, Jorge, Panner... my brothers... Burning them like garbage. A white pony, a unicorn... she must've been the leader, she did the honors. One flash of her horn and they went up like kindling. Then the big red one saw me, didn't say a damn word, just looked at me and started walking toward me. I drew my sword... I wasn't going to die without a fight." "What happened then?" "There were too many. Flashes, flashes and I'm surrounded by unicorns, I can't move. The white one is looking at me. She laughs, giggles like a little girl... The red one kicks me in the head, and I fall to the ground... It hurt so bad. I feel her grab my hands with magic. Did you know that pony magic burns? When they grab you? She pulled me up, off the ground, she wouldn't stop laughing... I dropped my sword and she made fun of me, said, 'Oh, my poor baby, did you drop your fancy knife? Let Mama fix you up,' And then she... Oh, Quilt, the pain... my hands..." The corpse shifted, where it had been standing still, gently swaying as if drunk, it began to shiver. It stared blindly at the stumps of it hands, a dull, crackling roar boiling from it's rotting mouth. "Monsters. Quilt-damned monsters. Why did you bring me back? Haven't I been through enough? Kill me! Kill me! Kill me, please!" Mikal began to beat his head on the ground, his arms flopping wetly against the dirt. Lunar grabbed the corpse, holding him still. "Not yet. You're not giving me enough, Mikal, I need names, numbers, details, dammit! Help me hunt them down!" "She tore my hands off. They played with me, like cats. The red one kicked me again. They were there to kill us, why would they talk about anything else? It was meant to be a massacre, why would, would, would, it be anything but? But... but why but? Why butt? But, I... I... can't, Lora, I'm going to be a Knight, a Patch cannot be a soiled cloth... I... love you, Lora, Quilt save me, I love you so much... Quilt forgive me..." "Nevermind, I guess. You're done." Lunar unfolded his hand cannon, switching to Undead rounds. As Lunar kicked the last of the newly-grown sod over the corpse, he picked out his shard of the Smoke Mirror, dusting it off and polishing it on the shirt he usually didn't wear. Then he heard Polaris stomp twice behind him, something that he trained her to do to warn of intruders. When he turned around, Brother Patch had seemingly appeared out of thin air, as he often did, arms tucked into billowing sleeves, mismatched eyes staring blindly out underneath a patched hood. "Hullo, Brother. What can I do ya for?" "Hullo, Lunar." "How could you tell it was me?" Lunar was disguised as a traveler, with a wide hat to cover his face, a shirt and a billowing coat to cover his form. His face had matured in the time he'd been away, a Supernaturalist's life aged one quickly, not to mention the scars. "There's only one man in Questria who could ride this horse." Brother Patch rubbed Polaris' head and she rubbed back, nickering. He was a tall man, taller even than the horse. "Though he was no man when I last saw him. Besides, Flannery already sent me a letter." "It's good to see you, Patch." The two embraced, the familiar smell of crypt and embalming potion washing over Lunar. "Good to see you're still kicking." "As long as the Quilt has need of me, I will serve." Patch bowed, smiling in spite of himself. "Speaking of serving the Quilt, what sorcery were you performing on Brother Steelrich? Necromancy? I was under the impression Supernaturalists were supposed to avoid that sort of thing." "Simple communication with a recently-departed soul, far from a full resurrection." He held up the Smoke Mirror shard. "With this, it's completely safe on my end." Patch took it, holding it gently like a baby bird. "What a marvelous little trinket. I... I can see myself in it." "That's what it does. Draculus told me he took the original Smoke Mirror from the Lord of the Dead himself. He tried to use it to open a gate between the living world and the dead, to create a limbo where Undead were all-powerful. So I stole it and broke it. Now, I keep a piece of it with me so if anybody wants to put it back together, they'll have to kill me first. It's proven useful in the past. And the present, as you can see." "So, what did you find out?" "Not much that I didn't already know, but I now have eyewitness account that the attack on the Knights was, in fact, ponies, and there is evidence of an extensive infestation within the forest itself. They're being territiorial, they have something hidden that they don't want us to know about, and while they definitely need supplies to support a significant population, the raids were likely just a distraction. They're planning something, Patch." "So what do we do?" "You stand around and look pretty. I'm going in there to catch me a magical pony." Chapter Six: In Which Lunar Goes Camping"How much longer 'til we get to Ponyville, Sis?" "Ah told you it's not gonna be 'til nearly sunset, now quit askin' me." "But I'm tired and hungry and this horse smells bad and mah butt hurts from bouncin' around all day and-" "Blum! Could ya shut up fer an apple-pickin' second? I think I hear somethin'..." Blum clammed up instantly, the one condition of being taken on this trip being that she absolutely had to listen to her sister. Jack would have rather she not come along, but she'd been tag-teamed and eventually forced to give in. So now they were on their way to Ponyville to acquire supplies, and Blum was consistently reminding her sister why she hadn't wanted her to come along in the first place. Jack could hear a horse nearby, ahead on the path, which was unexpected; they were supposed to be the only ones on the path until they got out of the forest. "Blum, stay close." They moved ahead cautiously, coming into a clearing in the woods where a carriage sat, laden heavily and drawn by a black horse, but strangely driver-less. Jack dismounted and Blum did the same, Jack drawing her sword and Blum drawing the knife she'd been given. Jack walked a wide circle around the clearing first; there didn't seem to be anybody around. The carriage was totally abandoned. Jack couldn't believe her luck. A quick glance into the bed of the carriage confirmed her hopes; it was laden heavily with carrots, cabbage, and her personal favorite, apples. She grinned, sheathing her sword and hopping into the carriage to inspect the cargo. "We hit the jackpot, here, Blum, gimme a hand with these." No sooner had she dug a hand into one of the bushels when she heard a soft click and something mechanical tightened around her wrist. Animal instinct jerked her hand back, only to be stopped by a steel cuff digging into her wrist. It took her a moment to realize it was a trap. "BLUM! RUN!" "Jack?" Even as her sister spoke, Jack stomped a boot into the side of the carriage to get more leverage. "RUN, BLUM! IT'S A TRAP!" Jack jerked on the chain, once, twice, three times, and on the fourth time, she pulled it right from the floor. Nearly crying from relief, she hopped into the driver seat of the carriage. "Nevermind, get in!" "Hyah! Get goin'!" She cried to the black horse. It turned and looked at her, and she could've sworn it was smiling. A man's voice called to her from above. "Hey! Be careful with that carriage, it's a rental!" Mid-sentence, there was a loud bang followed by a soft whistling, and just as Jack percieved these things, something wrapped tightly around her midsection, knocking the breath from her. Blum, who'd followed orders for once, leapt to her sister's aid, accidentally poking her with her knife in her haste to cut the bonds. In a moment, she was free again. A man jumped from the tree-tops, rolling to his feet. "Well, you're a couple of fighters. I'm impressed." He was an average-looking human, but he was wearing different clothing than she was used to, completely shirtless with odd, black straps crossing his chest. He held a strange, brass device with many handles and levers. He ratcheted one of the handles back and forth, and a part of the machine spun wildly, clicking menacingly. "Blum, get behind me." The man smiled, watching as Blum hid behind her sister. Jack gritted her teeth. Over my dead body, she vowed. The brass machine jerked in the man's hands, spitting a flailing bolas. The projectile was almost too fast for her to react. Almost. The bolas wrapped tightly around her arm, and she spun it backward to loosen it, tossing it to the dirt. "Yer gonna have to do better than that, cowboy." He pulled another lever, the barrel of the weapon flared outward. "Oh, trust me, I can." The third bang was far larger than the previous ones, and somewhere between eight and ten bolas were flying at her. At least four hit Jack, but she managed to protect Blum, which was the important thing. Jack fell to the ground, writhing in her bonds. "RUN, BLUM! AH MEAN IT THIS TIME!" This time, she obeyed. Jack tried to get to her feet, but her left arm was tight around her head, her left tied painfully behind her back. Rolling to the side and getting her foot under her, she managed to get into a kneeling position and, from there, stood. She looked around, and Blum was nowhere to be seen. That's my girl. "C'mon, ya monkey bastard, get it over with! Ah don't have time for this!" She strained against her bonds, tapping into the years of farm work and the years of hardship after, the strength that shook trees and could stop a full-speed carriage dead in it's tracks. One rope snapped, then two, and with one final heave, the rest exploded into hemp and weighted ends. "Damn. That's impressive." With a blur of movement, the man changed cartridges in his machine. Then he folded it and clipped it back into the small of his back. Drawing his sword, he pointed at hers, sheathed at her side. "You know how to use that?" She pulled it from it's sheathe, hefting it's unfamiliar weight. She didn't, at least not very well, but she was just buying time for Blum to get away. "Well enough." "Sure you do. At least you'll fall with some steel in your hand, rather than being trapped like an animal. I understand that, at least." "You don't understand anything." "Maybe you're right." Apparently, at this, he decided the conversation was over, as he attacked her with more ferociousness than she'd ever seen. She was clearly stronger, but it did her no good when he had formidable strength and impossible speed. She held her own with some of her basic maneuvers, but, like a master swordsman, he quickly had a feel for her style, and disarmed her without a scratch on either of them. "There. Now, will you come quietly?" "Yer gonna have to kill me." "I don't think that's going to be necessary." He snaked under her guard and knocked her out with a single blow.
Prologue"Dawn! Look at how high I can bounce!" "Wow! You almost touched the ceiling!" Orion jumped again, but rather than trailing his fingers along the ceiling, as he'd done before, his foot slipped on the corner of the bed and he tumbled to the floor, prompting another fit of giggles from him and his little sister. However, their mirth was quickly silenced when they heard the soft click-clack of their uncle's talons coming up the stairs. The door creaked open, and Uncle's face appeared. He frowned at the sight of Orion on the floor, tangled in his blankets, and Dawn beside him, clutching her favorite stuffed manticore doll. Uncle raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I put you kids to bed half an hour ago?" "But Uncle, we're too excited to sleep!" cried Orion from beneath the blanket, as Dawn stifled another giggle. "Sure enough, the one night your mama calls me to babysit is on Resurrections Eve." Uncle sighed, but there was a smile on his face. "You kids pumped for the festival tomorrow?" "Yeah!' "Yay!" "Good, good. But you guys gotta get your sleep, so you're not bone tired before the party even starts!" He scooped up Orion in his arms and Dawn in his tail, and tucked them both back into bed. "And if you tykes aren't in dreamland by the time your mama and daddy get home, all three of us are going to be in trouble." Using his tail to pull up a chair and cracking open a beer he'd brought upstairs with him, Uncle asked, "So, what'll it be, kiddos? Lullaby? Your Auntie Shy taught me a couple good ones." "Uncle!" Orion crossed his arms, indignant. "Lullabies are for babies!" "Yeah, babies!" His little sister mimicked the motion with her hooves. "Tell us a story!" Their uncle took a sip of his beer and blew a puff of smoke. "Well, what kind of story do you want, then?" Orion wanted, "Adventure and action!" So, of course, Dawn wanted, "Romance and mystery!" "Hmm..." Uncle rubbed his chin for a moment. Then, his eyes suddenly lit up like fireworks. "I know the perfect one! How about I tell you kids the story of the very first Resurrection Day?" "The very first Resurrection Day?" The siblings said together. "Yup, the very first Resurrection Day." Uncle grinned devilishly before promising, "It'll be just like you were there, yourselves." He took a deep breath and blew smoke about the room. However, unlike his normal smoke, this stuff was purple and smelled funny. Orion and Dawn felt their minds opening up, like lotus blossoms in the moonlight. What Uncle said was true. It was as if they were there, themselves. "It began many years ago, not long before Orion was born, on a warm summer night, just like tonight..."
Chapter One: In Which Lunar Does Nothing Of ImportanceIt began many years ago, on a warm summer night. A young man (in about his mid-twenties) sat before a small fire, petting his black pony. Not a magical pony, mind you, just an ordinary, normal pony. At least, ordinary and normal in the way that she was not magical. Amongst non-magical ponies, however, she was rather exceptional. She was fiercely loyal to the young man, and would follow him through the seven circles of Tartarus if need be. In addition to this, she was highly intelligent and was trained to do many tricks, like coming whenever the young man whistled. This pony's name was Polaris, which means North Star. She was named so because of the distinctive star marking on her forehead. The young man was not magical, either, but that goes without saying, as magical humans don't exist. But just as with his pony, his lack of magical-ness did not make him ordinary. Rather, it made him extraordinary. You see, the young man had a gift: Pony magic could not touch him. Now, ordinary magic, like potions or charms, those worked just fine, but if a spell came from a pony, it would always miss or fizzle out, rather than hitting him. This sort of thing was completely unique, and it was what made him the best pony hunter who ever lived. The young man's name was Lunar Everfree Ponisbane. His first name came from his mother's sister, who died before he was born. His middle name came from the forest he was born in. His last name was his father's. And so the non-magical young man sat, petting his non-magical horse, before a non-magical fire, contemplating his very magical life. "Who'd have thunk, that after eight years, we'd be coming back here." He gazed down upon his hometown of Ponyville (A rather ominous name, they might as well have called it 'Devilstown' or 'Demon City') from the cliffside. He hadn't been planning on coming back, too many memories. But sometimes plans change. He pulled out the letter again. It was in a familiar script that was reduced to a scrawl, due to haste. Dear Lunar, As much as I hate to trouble you, Lu, I don't know who else could help me. I've been understandably busy of late, I don't have the time to faff around, so I'll give it to you straight; I need you to come back. Now, before you feed this to Polaris, hear me out. Crops have been going missing right out of the fields, soap and other supplies vanishing from storefronts with no one to blame. We don't have any evidence so far, but we think it might be ponies. Also, this is probably unrelated, but some kids have gone missing, twenty-something of them. I thought that Tedi could handle it, but all he's done is put out a curfew and question the families. Something's changed about him since I gave him that Sheriff's badge. He sleeps all day and only comes out at night, if he does at all, and when he does, he snaps at everyone who talks to him. Maybe the power is going to his head, but I get the feeling he doesn't care about those kids. You know I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important, Lu. Please come as soon as possible! Your old friend, Flannery Moyra, Esteemed Mayor of Ponyville For the thousandth time, he wondered if it was a trap. He'd made many friends in his travels, but he'd also made many enemies. Supernatural enemies. Draculus, the unkillable God-King of the Vampires was still hunting him. Harris, the Alpha Werewolf, promised twenty of his finest females for Lunar's head. Vanna Bog, the Black Witch, wanted him taken alive so she could harvest spell ingredients, it was also assumed that she had a little crush on him. And that was just a few from a long list. He was a Supernaturalist, a man among gods, immortals, and creatures with powers beyond Human understanding. But he was, first and foremost, a Pony Hunter. He knew what friendship was. And he had a friend in danger, it was his job to help her out. No matter the cost.
Chapter Two: In Which Lunar Meets Some Old Friends"C'mon, Sweetheart!" "Let go of me!" The sun had just set when they came for her. She'd been reading up on lunar cycles when a large man busted into her house, startling Owlowiscious. She'd been so startled herself that she'd barely struggled when he'd handcuffed, gagged, and blindfolded her, telling her that she was under arrest. The large man shoved her roughly, causing her to stumble. He grabbed her by the shoulder and practically threw her up the stairs. The wooden floor gave slightly beneath her. Her blindfold fell off and she saw that she stood atop a trap door. A noose swung idly next to her. A silent, judging crowd surrounded the gallows on which she currently stood. Unseen hands removed her gag. An authoritative voice behind her stated plainly. "Twyla Eclipsis Sparkle, you stand accused of the crime of Ponydom. How do you plead?" "What? No, I'm not a pony!" She swallowed and tried to keep calm. This was all a mistake. "Not guilty!" "That's what they all say..." The voice muttered, before asking in a loud voice, "Where are the children, Twlya?" This was followed by a long, tense silence. "Where's my daughter, pony?" A man shouted from the back of the crowd. The crowd erupted. "Where are they, filthy horse!?" "They take our children, they take our crops! Everything we have!" "Our town is starving, while monsters like you fatten yourselves on our hard work!" "I say hang the bitch! Hang 'em all!' Twyla's eyes widened, as these townspeople she'd known for months turned on her so quickly, with no evidence to speak of, other than one man's word and their own fear. Her disbelief turned to hysterical tears as she felt a noose tighten around her neck. "No! You can't do this! I'm not a pony!" she cried. How could they do this? Ending her life would not solve anything. It was pointless. There were still so many things she wanted to do, she'd never even kissed a boy. "You can't do this..." she whispered. The man who handcuffed her leaned close to her ear and replied, "I'm the Sheriff, I can do what I want." The Sheriff stiffened and the crowd grew silent, as a pair of stilettos clacked their way up to the gallows. It was the Mayor. The broadsword strapped across her back stood out against her professional blouse and jacket. She stomped up the gallows stairs and placed her hands on her hips. "Tedi, just what in the blackest pit of Tartarus do you think you're doing?" He stepped forward to meet her. Twyla hadn't gotten a good look at him when he was tying her up. He was tall and well-muscled. His face was wrinkled and he had a big, black mustache that matched his black hair, black boots, and long, black coat. "That's Sheriff Reaver to you, and I'm hanging a pony, what does it look like I'm doing?" The petite Mayor met the intimidating Sheriff full force. "I'll call you whatever I damn well please, and you're not hanging anything without my say-so!" "You gave me your say-so the same day you gave me this badge!" He snarled as he tapped said badge with a gloved finger. Many faces in the crowd winced as the Mayor railed into him. "I gave you that badge so you could keep law and order in this town, not spread fear and chaos, and commit anyone who looks at you funny! What'd she do, Tedi? Turn you down? Remind you that every unmarried woman in this town isn't your personal whore?" The Sheriff's hand slid to the cutlass at his belt and his voice became dangerously low. "Just what, exactly, are you accusing me of, Ms. Mayor?" The Mayor's eyes narrowed and her hand shot to her weapon, as well. An ear-splitting boom tore through the night. The rope above Twyla's head exploded in a shower of hemp, and the noose fell limp against her back. Every head in the square turned toward the sound. An oddly dressed young man sat astride a shadow-black horse. He wore a pair of odd, deep-grey chaps over a pair of brown trousers, and rather than a shirt, his bare chest was criss-crossed with black leather straps affixed with silver buckles. A brass hand-cannon was attached to his outstretched arm, barrel smoking. "Sorry I'm late, Flanny." He glanced at the rope around Twyla's neck. "I guess we're all a little tied up lately." The Mayor grinned at the sight of him. "Thank the Gods! Here I thought you weren't going to come!" The man shrugged. "It sounded important, and it is my job, after all." The Sheriff bared his teeth. "Just who the Hell are you supposed to be? Wait, let me rephrase that: Who the Hell do you think you are?" "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Tedi Bear. We used to play 'Cops and Robbers" together." The man dismounted and strode toward the gallows, folding up his cannon and clipping it to his back. The crowd parted before him, out of fear or respect. Possibly both. "You always wanted to be the robber." "Lunar? Is that you? Can't be. The Lunar I knew was a pushover and a coward. Surely he'd have changed in eight years." He shook his head. "Where've you been off to? Chasing fairies and goblins?" "Actually, no." Lunar stepped up onto the gallows. He and the Sheriff were the same height. "You call an exterminator for fairies and goblins. They're pests. You call me for the big stuff." The Sheriff smirked. "A Supernaturalist, eh? Well, If you're such an expert on the subject, why don't you tell our good Mayor that this young girl before us is not a young girl at all, but rather, a pony in disguise!" Lunar smiled good-naturedly. He had a pleasant face, with a strong jaw and just the slightest bit of stubble. His eyes were brown and matched his short hair. "Of course, Tedi Bear. Be glad to." The Sheriff gritted his teeth at the use of his silly childhood nickname. He watched as Lunar approached Twyla. She flinched away. "It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you." As he stooped to pull a few objects from his bag, Twyla noticed a pair of cross hatched tattoos on either side of his neck. "Yet. I'm just going to do a few tests." He held a jar of liquid to her lips. "Here, taste this. I promise it's not poison." What choice did she have? Her delicate tongue flitted out and tapped the surface of the liquid. The tiny drop lit a bonfire in her mouth. She gasped. "Whew. Spicy." He nodded and pulled out an ordinary, unassuming seed, pressing it to her cheek. Her flesh tingled where he touched her. After a few seconds of nothing happening, he nodded again, putting the seed away. He knelt down in front of her and looked her in the eyes. "If you really aren't a pony, I apologize in advance for this next one. It's a bit... invasive." Before she could ask what he was doing, his head was underneath her dress, his fingers flitting over her legs. It was unexpected, if not entirely unpleasant, and she gasped. Her breath caught as he pulled down her underwear, revealing her pale, finely shaped buttocks. After only a heartbeat, he pulled them back up, clicking his tongue with satisfaction. Popping out from beneath her petticoats, Lunar unlocked the handcuffs. "Sorry about that, Miss," He muttered. "But I had to check for a Cutie Mark. It's the one thing they can't disguise" Then, louder. "This woman is not a pony, and she is not to blame for the Ponyville's woes. Go on home, everyone." The Sheriff held up an arm. "Woah, wait, hold up. She has to be a pony! Look at her hair, look at her eyes!" Lunar looked. "Yes, Tedi, what about them?" "They're purple!" "And a very pretty shade at that. But, while abnormal hair and eye coloring is a common symptom among disquised ponies, it is far from a defining trait. Maybe she had an incident dying clothes, maybe she suffers from simultaneous cases of purpura capillus and purpura oculus. It isn't the strangest thing I've seen in this job, which, I'll remind you, ended when I said she wasn't a pony. Have a good night." "Wait one second, Lunar. Not every pony has a Cutie Mark. When an Alicorn disguises itself, it shows no outward symptoms!" The Sheriff grinned maliciously when he saw the anger in Lunar's eyes. The Lunar's voice became deadly. "A good point, Sheriff, but a moot one. Everyone here knows that my father died killing the last Alicorn fifteen years ago. I'm the Pony Hunter here, and I say that this girl is just as Human as you or me." The Mayor put her arm around Lunar again. "Tedi, you are no longer in charge of Pony investigations. You will turn any evidence you have gathered so far over to Lunar. As long as he remains in Ponyville, you will consider him your superior." The Sheriff's brow furrowed in an expression of disbelief. "You can't do that!" "I'm the Mayor, I can do what I want."
Chapter Three: In Which Lunar Goes To A BarThe crowd was dispersed. The Sheriff skulked off to whatever hole he'd come from. Twyla was escorted back to her home. Lunar and the Mayor made their way back to town hall. The door to the Mayor's office closed behind them. Flannery stuck out her hand out to Lunar. "Thanks for helping out back there. I don't know what would have happened if you had't shown up." Rather than shaking her hand, Lunar shook his head and spread his arms. "It hasn't been that long, Flanny Cakes." Flannery accepted the hug, and eight years of separation melted away in a singe heartbeat. "Gods, I'm glad you're back." She broke it and flopped back in her chair. "Things have really be going to the dogs, lately." Lunar sat down as well. "Well, I'm here now. I'll do whatever you need me to. This is my town, too." "I'm glad to hear that, Lu." She tossed him a large bag of coin. "That's your down payment, you get the rest when bring me some ponies. I set up a room down at Mortha's inn, that's where you'll be staying." "Mortha runs the inn, now?" "Oh, you know Mortha. She had an eye on the place even before you left. We should probably head there, now, so you can get settled. I'm sure you're tired after such a long trip." "I'm not, but Polaris probably is. They have stables, right?" And so, the Mayor and the Hunter made their way to the inn across town. Many familiar faces came to greet him, shake his hand, admire his equipment. As the six-time winner of the Supernaturalist Extraordinaire Award, Lunar was something of a celebrity in the Kingdom of Questria. Flannery counted herself lucky to be childhood friends with him. Some did not. Tedi was likely regretting that friendship now, and Lunar was the focus of more than one angry glare as he led Polaris through the town. They arrived before the Deep's Inn without incident. Lunar raised an eyebrow. The Deep was the home dimension of the Eldri, a race of tentacled abominations that thought of human beings as food or slaves, depending on the individual. Why would Mortha name an inn after such a horrid place? No, he was just being paranoid. Mortha probably didn't even know about the Deep. She probably just thought it sounded cool. Lunar opened the double doors, and was reminded why he should trust his instincts. Behind the bar was a Lesser Eldri. It stood on four armored, segmented legs, with tentacles dangling beneath the thorax where they met. Connected to the thorax was an almost-human torso topped with a disgusting insectoid head. Lunar's handcannon was in his hand almost instantly. With the flip of a switch, the cannon switched to 'Dragon Breath' rounds. When in doubt, kill it with fire. "When you get back to the Deep, tell Cthulhu that Lunar sent you." To Lunar's surprise, the beast actually replied, the Eldrish speech echoing near the base of his skull. Peace upon you, Hunter. I'd rather you didn't send me back to the Deep. They are not fond of me there. "Lu! Stop pointing that gun at Robin!" Flannery shoved the barrel down, then stood in front of the Eldri, blocking Lunar's shot. "Robin? You named it?" "What's going on out here?" Mortha, the owner of the Deep's Inn, clacked down the stairs. In Lunar's absence, she'd filled out, from an awkward teenager into one of the loveliest women in Ponyville. She gasped when she caught sight of Lunar and gasped. "Lu? Where in the Deep have you been? Gods, it's been what, eight years?" Lunar growled and gestured at 'Robin' with his cannon. "Am I the only one who's upset about the tentacled freak gallivanting about with no bleeding holes in him?" Both women ignored him. Flannery pushed Lunar's gun barrel away from the abomination again. "I'm sorry about this, Mortha, I really should have warned him before we came, but I've had kind of a crazy night." "It's alright, Flanny. I'm sure Lunar will understand if I explain." Mortha approached Lunar and gently pulled down her eyelid. "I'm not enthralled. Check my eyes, Lu. Neither is Flanny, or anybody in here." "I know you're not enthralled, any Supernaturalist worth the title would be able to tell that. That's why I'm wondering why you are not concerned about this!" I will explain. Images flashed through Lunar's mind at the speed of thought. Alien images seen through alien eyes. My Eldrish name is Rbńthlÿd, which means 'Unruly Child'. I was named such because among my people, I am rather young, though I existed long before your people ruled this planet. I have long disagreed with my elders on many subjects. As punishment, they forced me into this plane of existence. Lunar watched the memory through Rbńthlÿd's eyes. It could sometimes take an Eldri years to accustom themselves to the constraints of a physical body, even in secluded places, like the bottom of the sea. Rbńthlÿd manifested in a pond in the Everfree Forest. He was nearly torn apart by predators within the first five minutes. It was pure luck that he materialized in the same pond that was Mortha's favorite fishing hole. At the time, Mortha hadn't known what he was, only that he was injured and needed help. She nursed him back to health, introduced him to the town, and gave him a job. The rest was history. Lunar wanted desperately to not believe him. But he could not. Eldrish was a language of thoughts and feelings. A connection between minds. Robin could no easier lie to Lunar than Lunar could lie to himself. The Hunter put his cannon away. "Fine. Great. The abomination can stay. But you listen here, 'Robin'; If you put even one tentacle out of line, and I find out, then your ass is sushi." While it is safe to assume that all creatures deemed 'supernatural' by your kind are evil, sometimes safe is not always best. "Whatever. I'll have a scotch." Right away, Hunter.
Chapter Four: In Which Lunar Dances With BabesFlannery could not escape her mayoral duties for long. About a quarter of the way through a bottle of Mortha's finest scotch, a runner called her back to the town hall on urgent business. Mortha, of course, had a business to run, so she couldn't converse for very long. After a while, she was called away, leaving Lunar alone. The Pony Hunter may have been a resident of Ponyville at one point, but after wandering for almost a decade, he was now an outsider. No one approached him as he drank alone, the silver spurs on his boots jangling as he lightly tapped his foot to the beat of whatever song the band happened to be playing at the moment. Robin kept the golden liquid in his glass at a reasonable level. For the longest time, Lunar sat alone. By himself. Just as Robin was refilling his glass a fourth time, the door opened with the pleasant chime of a bell, and the inn grew quiet. The Hunter turned to see the strange purple-haired girl who was on the brink of execution when he arrived. She'd cleaned herself up and put on a nice dress, looking far more composed than when he'd seen her last. She sauntered up to the bar and ordered a girly drink, taking a seat on a stool two down from him. Lunar slammed the rest of his drink, threw some coin on the bar, and hustled out. In the stables, Polaris whickered at her rider. "I panicked, alright? What was I supposed to do? Wait for her to talk to me?" The pony kicked the stable wall and snorted. "Honestly, I'd rather be rude than have whatever conversation we were going to have. She was either going to thank me for saving her or berate me for stuffing my head under her skirt in front of the whole town. Maybe both. Either way, it was Tedi's fault for trying to solve the pony problem with a public lynching. No grasp of subtlety, that one." Polaris shook her head and laid down. Lunar sat next to her and unfolded his cannon, propping himself against the wall so he could have a view of both doors. "Besides, you didn't see her. She was gorgeous. How is a guy like me supposed to talk to a girl like her?" The horse blew out a long breath through her nose and fell asleep. Lunar sat and closed his eyes, and listened to the sounds of the night. In the morning, he purchased a pumpkin. He also purchased three bushels of apples, a bushel each of carrots and cabbage, and leased a cart to carry them with. Then, he rolled them down the Sheriff's office and paid Tedi a visit. "I really could give a flying rat's ass what Flannery wants, those kids are my investigation, and if she thinks that she can just march some virtual stranger into town and expect me to just hand over all my work... Hey!" Lunar had stopped listening and begun digging through the evidence files, which Tedi had left out on the desk. They were notably bare. "This is it? Kids have been going missing for months and this is all you have?" "I'm not going to make excuses. You know better than I do what we're up against." The sheriff threw up his hands and stood, going to the liquor cabinet. "Fine. You've already been paid out of the good people's pocket, I might as well get some use out of you." He poured drinks for the two of them and leaned back in his chair. Lunar took his politely and continued to sift through the parchments. "These curfews aren't going to help anything. Ponies work by day, in plain sight. They avoid staying in towns overnight, prefering wooded or wild areas." "What if they have sympathizers, or thralls?" "No chance. They hate our kind more than we hate theirs." Lunar looked over the maps. "Why haven't you sent any riders into the Everfree? That would have been the first place I looked. "You haven't heard?" Tedi poured himself another drink. "Figure'd you'd already talked to Brother Patch." "I stopped by on my way into town. The Quilt was empty." After Lunar was found wandering in the woods as a child, he'd been given to the Quilt. Brother Patch had given him his schooling, his Patchwork Knights had taught him how to defend himself and conduct himself with honor. When he'd left Ponyville, the Quilt had been the home he missed. "You woudn't find him there. The Knights have set up a temporary Quilt down by the Quiet Cottage. The Forest has gone berserk. Timber wolves and worse have been hitting the farms out there hard. Apparently the last expedition in didn't go so well, either; twenty Knights ventured into the fog, one came back." This caught Lunar's attention. "Really? Where is he now?" Tedi shook his head. "Six feet under, now, poor bastard. His hands were cut off, and he had a crack in his head so big I'm surprised his brain didn't fall out on the way back. He didn't have any information, either, he'd just keep babbling about how the moon was too bright, and every once in a while he'd start screaming for no reason. Patch did what he could, but apparently he died in his sleep a day later." "You're sure they were cut off? Not bitten or ripped off?" "I dunno, I just saw the body, but if I had to guess, I'd say they were smashed, with a big rock maybe. But, you should ask Brother Patch about that, I'm no flesh-tailor." "Well, it definitely sounds like ponies, but I'm not gonna file any reports until I have something solid. In the meantime, I suggest you lift the curfew and set up some checkpoints. Check for unfamiliar faces, people travelling alone, but don't arrest anybody yet. People with odd hair or eye color are suspicious, but not automatically dangerous." Tedi rolled his eyes, pouring himself yet another drink. "Any more helpful tips to shower on us mortals, O Wise One?" "Maybe go easy on that stuff." Lunar pointed at the whiskey. "Other than that, I'm sure you can handle it." "It's not like it's my job or anything." Tedi shook his head again. "Remember, Lu, these are my people, I care about them." "I grew up here, too, Tedi." "But you've been gone a long time. Things change. People change." "...True. Take care of yourself, Ted." "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means, believe it or not, that it's good to see you again after all this time." Lunar stood and moved for the door. Tedi grunted and waved dismissively, turning his attention to his reports. "Get out of my office, Lunar. Don't come back until you've got some ponies. You're on the clock." "Well, fuck you, too." "What was that?" "I told you to go fuck yourself, Tedi."
Chapter Five: In Which Lunar Sees Dead People"Yeah, I know you're getting sick of pulling the damn cart, but I can't pull it, and we need it for the job." Polaris snorted. "Well, we're a team, and I don't think you could do my job." Polaris snorted again, still indignant. The pair approached the Quiet Cottage in disguise, not quite sure what they would find. A temporary Quilt billowed atop long poles, pieced together from old clothes and sheets, banners and flags from those noble Houses the Quilt has absorbed, and even patches of monster- and man-skin leftover from hundred of years of Stitchings. Despite it's size, this Quilt was dwarfed by the one back in Ponyville, more of a glorified tent than a proper place of worship. The morale among the Patchwork Knights was one of weariness and boredom. They huddled about fires, playing dice and drinking mead, talking quietly among the sober, and laughing loudly among the drunk. Growing up among these men and being an honorary Knight himself, Lunar couldn't help but search for familiar faces, and be disappointed when he found few. Clearly the Knights of Brother Patch's flock had been under heavy conflict for some time. On that note, Lunar pulled his Smoke Mirror shard from around his neck to guide him to the Knight's local boot hill, and from there to the grave of the Knight who'd returned from the Everfree without his brothers or his hands. It was a typical Patchwork grave, the dirt still fresh and mounded like so many others. It would have been indistinguishable from the dozens of others on the hill, but the power of the shattered Smoke Mirror was already pulling the Knight from the ground, partially rotted stubs clawing out of the freshly-turned gravesoil to answer the call. The Knight himself was only a week or two dead, and frightening for it. His skull was exposed, and he was naked but for his quilted cape in tatters around him. He pulled himself partially from his hole, dirt gathering around his waist. Lunar dismounted while Polaris eyed the corpse suspiciously. Another reason she was an excellent mount for a Supernaturalist was she did not fear the dead. The Knight watched right back, his eyes milky and blind. Kneeling next to him, Lunar pulled the shard from around his neck and held it out in front of the corpse. It held the shard pinched between it's two stubs, peering at it's own reflection, it's dead eyes roaming over it's rotting face, lingering where it's now-decomposed nose had been, gazing into the holes where his cheeks had been. It's jaw ratcheted, dead lungs working air through dead pipes. It spoke in a voice that was part magical, and part terribly real. "I'm dead, aren't I?" "Yeah, unfortunately." "It... hurts, man. Why... Why did you bring me back? How?" "I used a shard of the Smoke Mirror to pull a reflection of your soul back into your body. I need you to tell me what killed you." The corpse shuddered, feeling the back of it's head. "My head...I can feel the crack in it. My brain is broken, man." "That's why I'm asking your soul. Tell me your name, that might help." "My name is... Mikal. Mikal Steelrich, son of Cane. I was a Patchwork Knight." "May the Quilt warm you as you wander. Try to remember, Mikal, or more may end up like you and your brothers." "It's getting clearer... By the Quilt, it hurts... Brother Patch had us bound to the Eclipse Ruins to set up a base camp, then the rest of the Quilt would follow our footsteps. Two days... We were two days out, gonna reach the ruins in the morning. We were cutting loose, playing some dice and having some drinks, watching the sun set. Then the sentries didn't come back. We knew that things were going too smoothly, suddenly it hit us... Whatever was in the forest had been waiting, waiting for us to go to deep. It had us by the balls, then. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Ugh...Why did you do this to me?" "Focus, Mikal, it will be over soon. What did? Ponies?" "...Some. Yeah, there were definitely ponies. Some humans, too, or maybe ponies in human form. It was fully dark by the time they hit in force... Oh, by the Quilt... " "Can you describe any of them?" "They hit the camp when I was out rocking a piss. That's why they didn't kill me right away, I think. I could smell the blood before I even saw anything. Almost no one was left, Perrell was begging them to let him go. They were piling up the bodies, Higgs, Jorge, Panner... my brothers... Burning them like garbage. A white pony, a unicorn... she must've been the leader, she did the honors. One flash of her horn and they went up like kindling. Then the big red one saw me, didn't say a damn word, just looked at me and started walking toward me. I drew my sword... I wasn't going to die without a fight." "What happened then?" "There were too many. Flashes, flashes and I'm surrounded by unicorns, I can't move. The white one is looking at me. She laughs, giggles like a little girl... The red one kicks me in the head, and I fall to the ground... It hurt so bad. I feel her grab my hands with magic. Did you know that pony magic burns? When they grab you? She pulled me up, off the ground, she wouldn't stop laughing... I dropped my sword and she made fun of me, said, 'Oh, my poor baby, did you drop your fancy knife? Let Mama fix you up,' And then she... Oh, Quilt, the pain... my hands..." The corpse shifted, where it had been standing still, gently swaying as if drunk, it began to shiver. It stared blindly at the stumps of it hands, a dull, crackling roar boiling from it's rotting mouth. "Monsters. Quilt-damned monsters. Why did you bring me back? Haven't I been through enough? Kill me! Kill me! Kill me, please!" Mikal began to beat his head on the ground, his arms flopping wetly against the dirt. Lunar grabbed the corpse, holding him still. "Not yet. You're not giving me enough, Mikal, I need names, numbers, details, dammit! Help me hunt them down!" "She tore my hands off. They played with me, like cats. The red one kicked me again. They were there to kill us, why would they talk about anything else? It was meant to be a massacre, why would, would, would, it be anything but? But... but why but? Why butt? But, I... I... can't, Lora, I'm going to be a Knight, a Patch cannot be a soiled cloth... I... love you, Lora, Quilt save me, I love you so much... Quilt forgive me..." "Nevermind, I guess. You're done." Lunar unfolded his hand cannon, switching to Undead rounds. As Lunar kicked the last of the newly-grown sod over the corpse, he picked out his shard of the Smoke Mirror, dusting it off and polishing it on the shirt he usually didn't wear. Then he heard Polaris stomp twice behind him, something that he trained her to do to warn of intruders. When he turned around, Brother Patch had seemingly appeared out of thin air, as he often did, arms tucked into billowing sleeves, mismatched eyes staring blindly out underneath a patched hood. "Hullo, Brother. What can I do ya for?" "Hullo, Lunar." "How could you tell it was me?" Lunar was disguised as a traveler, with a wide hat to cover his face, a shirt and a billowing coat to cover his form. His face had matured in the time he'd been away, a Supernaturalist's life aged one quickly, not to mention the scars. "There's only one man in Questria who could ride this horse." Brother Patch rubbed Polaris' head and she rubbed back, nickering. He was a tall man, taller even than the horse. "Though he was no man when I last saw him. Besides, Flannery already sent me a letter." "It's good to see you, Patch." The two embraced, the familiar smell of crypt and embalming potion washing over Lunar. "Good to see you're still kicking." "As long as the Quilt has need of me, I will serve." Patch bowed, smiling in spite of himself. "Speaking of serving the Quilt, what sorcery were you performing on Brother Steelrich? Necromancy? I was under the impression Supernaturalists were supposed to avoid that sort of thing." "Simple communication with a recently-departed soul, far from a full resurrection." He held up the Smoke Mirror shard. "With this, it's completely safe on my end." Patch took it, holding it gently like a baby bird. "What a marvelous little trinket. I... I can see myself in it." "That's what it does. Draculus told me he took the original Smoke Mirror from the Lord of the Dead himself. He tried to use it to open a gate between the living world and the dead, to create a limbo where Undead were all-powerful. So I stole it and broke it. Now, I keep a piece of it with me so if anybody wants to put it back together, they'll have to kill me first. It's proven useful in the past. And the present, as you can see." "So, what did you find out?" "Not much that I didn't already know, but I now have eyewitness account that the attack on the Knights was, in fact, ponies, and there is evidence of an extensive infestation within the forest itself. They're being territiorial, they have something hidden that they don't want us to know about, and while they definitely need supplies to support a significant population, the raids were likely just a distraction. They're planning something, Patch." "So what do we do?" "You stand around and look pretty. I'm going in there to catch me a magical pony."
Chapter Six: In Which Lunar Goes Camping"How much longer 'til we get to Ponyville, Sis?" "Ah told you it's not gonna be 'til nearly sunset, now quit askin' me." "But I'm tired and hungry and this horse smells bad and mah butt hurts from bouncin' around all day and-" "Blum! Could ya shut up fer an apple-pickin' second? I think I hear somethin'..." Blum clammed up instantly, the one condition of being taken on this trip being that she absolutely had to listen to her sister. Jack would have rather she not come along, but she'd been tag-teamed and eventually forced to give in. So now they were on their way to Ponyville to acquire supplies, and Blum was consistently reminding her sister why she hadn't wanted her to come along in the first place. Jack could hear a horse nearby, ahead on the path, which was unexpected; they were supposed to be the only ones on the path until they got out of the forest. "Blum, stay close." They moved ahead cautiously, coming into a clearing in the woods where a carriage sat, laden heavily and drawn by a black horse, but strangely driver-less. Jack dismounted and Blum did the same, Jack drawing her sword and Blum drawing the knife she'd been given. Jack walked a wide circle around the clearing first; there didn't seem to be anybody around. The carriage was totally abandoned. Jack couldn't believe her luck. A quick glance into the bed of the carriage confirmed her hopes; it was laden heavily with carrots, cabbage, and her personal favorite, apples. She grinned, sheathing her sword and hopping into the carriage to inspect the cargo. "We hit the jackpot, here, Blum, gimme a hand with these." No sooner had she dug a hand into one of the bushels when she heard a soft click and something mechanical tightened around her wrist. Animal instinct jerked her hand back, only to be stopped by a steel cuff digging into her wrist. It took her a moment to realize it was a trap. "BLUM! RUN!" "Jack?" Even as her sister spoke, Jack stomped a boot into the side of the carriage to get more leverage. "RUN, BLUM! IT'S A TRAP!" Jack jerked on the chain, once, twice, three times, and on the fourth time, she pulled it right from the floor. Nearly crying from relief, she hopped into the driver seat of the carriage. "Nevermind, get in!" "Hyah! Get goin'!" She cried to the black horse. It turned and looked at her, and she could've sworn it was smiling. A man's voice called to her from above. "Hey! Be careful with that carriage, it's a rental!" Mid-sentence, there was a loud bang followed by a soft whistling, and just as Jack percieved these things, something wrapped tightly around her midsection, knocking the breath from her. Blum, who'd followed orders for once, leapt to her sister's aid, accidentally poking her with her knife in her haste to cut the bonds. In a moment, she was free again. A man jumped from the tree-tops, rolling to his feet. "Well, you're a couple of fighters. I'm impressed." He was an average-looking human, but he was wearing different clothing than she was used to, completely shirtless with odd, black straps crossing his chest. He held a strange, brass device with many handles and levers. He ratcheted one of the handles back and forth, and a part of the machine spun wildly, clicking menacingly. "Blum, get behind me." The man smiled, watching as Blum hid behind her sister. Jack gritted her teeth. Over my dead body, she vowed. The brass machine jerked in the man's hands, spitting a flailing bolas. The projectile was almost too fast for her to react. Almost. The bolas wrapped tightly around her arm, and she spun it backward to loosen it, tossing it to the dirt. "Yer gonna have to do better than that, cowboy." He pulled another lever, the barrel of the weapon flared outward. "Oh, trust me, I can." The third bang was far larger than the previous ones, and somewhere between eight and ten bolas were flying at her. At least four hit Jack, but she managed to protect Blum, which was the important thing. Jack fell to the ground, writhing in her bonds. "RUN, BLUM! AH MEAN IT THIS TIME!" This time, she obeyed. Jack tried to get to her feet, but her left arm was tight around her head, her left tied painfully behind her back. Rolling to the side and getting her foot under her, she managed to get into a kneeling position and, from there, stood. She looked around, and Blum was nowhere to be seen. That's my girl. "C'mon, ya monkey bastard, get it over with! Ah don't have time for this!" She strained against her bonds, tapping into the years of farm work and the years of hardship after, the strength that shook trees and could stop a full-speed carriage dead in it's tracks. One rope snapped, then two, and with one final heave, the rest exploded into hemp and weighted ends. "Damn. That's impressive." With a blur of movement, the man changed cartridges in his machine. Then he folded it and clipped it back into the small of his back. Drawing his sword, he pointed at hers, sheathed at her side. "You know how to use that?" She pulled it from it's sheathe, hefting it's unfamiliar weight. She didn't, at least not very well, but she was just buying time for Blum to get away. "Well enough." "Sure you do. At least you'll fall with some steel in your hand, rather than being trapped like an animal. I understand that, at least." "You don't understand anything." "Maybe you're right." Apparently, at this, he decided the conversation was over, as he attacked her with more ferociousness than she'd ever seen. She was clearly stronger, but it did her no good when he had formidable strength and impossible speed. She held her own with some of her basic maneuvers, but, like a master swordsman, he quickly had a feel for her style, and disarmed her without a scratch on either of them. "There. Now, will you come quietly?" "Yer gonna have to kill me." "I don't think that's going to be necessary." He snaked under her guard and knocked her out with a single blow.
