And Here We Go, Out Into the Adventure

Map of the land South of Middle-Equestria:

Chapter 2: Dangers of the Forest

          Star Swirl, Blade Dusk, Finite, SpitFlame and Clover traveled through the Hayseed swamp, or at least on its edges. They had to be careful so they wouldn't get mud on their hooves and giant swamp flies in their faces. Nasty little things were always a bother. Hayseed swamp didn't look it, but it was quite large, making it feel like you are walking miles with all those thick trees in your way.

After about half way across, the fellowship had found a dry spot under a large tree. Dry green grass lay under it, so they decided to rest there. After all the moon was high in the sky, causing it to be very dark. The ponies set their weapons against the tree; Finite did a quick fly by around the muddy area.

"We will sleep here for the night." said Star Swirl. "In the morning, at the earliest, we'll be off."

"I do hope we reach the end of this swamp by tomorrow." said Blade. "I can already feel the air getting dirty."

SpitFlame rolled her eyes while resting against the hard birch. "The air's not going to hurt you Blade. What we have to worry about are the hungry alligators."

While Blade Dusk seemed unfazed and set her bow and quill on another side of the birch (it was a very large tree), Clover gave a gulp. "A-Alligators...H-H-Hungry?!"

She felt a hoof relax on her shoulder. Turning around she saw a wizard. "Do not fear alligators in these parts my dear. They do not hunt here for there is no prey here."

Clover smiled and nodded. She decided to place her blanket near the tree on the dry, grassy ground. Meanwhile, Star Swirl looked beyond their resting place, and spotted Finite flying back. "Did you find anything?" asked Star Swirl as Finite landed.

"Nothing really." she replied. "Just many swamp trees with a lot of mud pools. I even eyed on some alligators but they're not coming here."

After talking was done, they all decided it would be best to get some rest. At night things seemed to get darker than usual. So many trees branched out with many leaves blocking the sky. It felt like a great shadow over you, and you would get barely any moonlight. So the company lit a few torches 'round the place. They were some what dim. Not too low so it would still be dark but not too high so it would attract attention. Star Swirl made them himself, so they were magical fires.

--

Clover awoke with a startle. Her eyes scanned around the musty swamp. She saw her friends sleeping against the tree. Clover saw a path of trees leading out away to somewhere. The biggest part was that there was a light radiating from beyond the green path. "What in Equestria." Clover muttered to herself as she got on her fours. Strapping her small sword to her leather cloak, she made way to the light, curious to see what it was.

Clover walked about, few leaves fell off its branches and onto her, though she didn't mind. As she walked the light seemed to turn redder and more terrifying. I don't suppose you or I would have noticed anything at on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. So mysteriously, none of the other members noticed this. As in for Clover walking primly towards the red light, I don't suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, she got right up to the fire-for a fire it was-without disturbing anypony, and this is what she saw.

Three very large persons sitting round a very large fire of beech-logs. They were toasting mutton on long spits of wood, and licking the gravy off their fingers. There was a fine toothsome smell. Also there was a barrel of good drink at hand, and they were drinking out of jugs; but they were trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Clover, in spite of her sheltered life, could see that: from the great heavy faces of them, and their size, and the shape of their legs, not to mention their language, which was not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow," said one of the trolls.

"Never a blinking bit of pony flesh have we had for long enough," said a second. "What the 'ell Beefer  was a-thinkin' of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me-and the drink runnin' short, what's more, he said jogging the elbow of Beefer , who was taking a pull at his jug.

Beefer choked. "Shut yer mouth!" he said as soon as he could. "Yer can't expect folk to stop here for ever just to be eaten by you and Bert. You eat a village  and a half between, since we come down from the mountains. How much more d'yer want? And time's been up our way, when yer'd have said  'thank yer Bill' for a nice o' fat valley mutton like what it is." He took a bug bite off a sheep's leg he was toasting, and wiping his lips on his arm.

Yes, I am afraid trolls do behave like that, even those with only one head each. After hearing all this Clover ought to have done something at once. Either she should have gone back quietly and warned her friends that there were three fair-sized trolls at hand in a nasty mood, quite likely to try toasted pony, or else she should have tried to sneak around them and see what loot they carried. Then the night could have been  spent cheerily.

Clover knew it. She had read a good many things she had never seen or done. She was very much alarmed, as well as disgusted; she wished  herself a hundred miles away, and yet-and yet somehow she could not go straight back to Star Swirl and company empty-hoofed. So she crouched and hesitated in the shadows; she crept behind a tree just behind Beefer.

Suddenly, a giant hand the size of Clover herself grabbed her from behind, and pulled her up in front of Beefer and the other trolls.

"Ere, 'oo are you?" it squeaked, looking at Clover confused as Bill and Bert gathered around; Clover was terrified.

"What is it?" said the others coming up.

"Lumme, if I knows! What are yer?"

"Clover the Clever, a pon- a traveler," said poor Clover, shaking all over, and wondering how to make owl-noises before they throttled her.

Bill walked closer to her. "A ponatraveler? Never heard that before. Let's eat it and-"

A metal arrow emerged from the dark trees, and it stabbed Bill right in the leg; and he squealed in pain.

Blade Dusk came out, holding her bow with an arrow locked on the troll which captured Clover. "Drop her!" Blade yelled.

"Yer what!?" Beefer growled in annoyance. Mean while the other two trolls were both very angry, especially Bill.

"I have told thee," Blade said again, tightening the arrow against the string, "drop her!"

Maddened and upset, Beefer threw Clover over to Blade. On impact, they both fell and slid on the dirt. The three trolls were about to attack in rage when a big steel axe shot through the dark woods. In slashed against Bert's leg, and he jumped. Two more iron swords swished through Bill's eye, and he went half-blind. They all screamed as the attackers showed themselves. It was SpitFlame and Finite; both were next to Blade and Clover.

"Clover," said SpitFlame, "We will take care of them. Run!" and Clover did just that. She ran westward behind the the trees and under the thick branches. To her right were the trolls and the dark forest. To her left was Finite, Blade and SpitFlame; all were ready to attack.

Finite couldn't talk as she held a sword in both her hooves and the second one in her mouth, but her eyes did the talking. Blade locked another arrow and SpitFlame held the axe against her back, ready to swing.

"Have at thee!' Blade taunted, and both sides collided. The trolls jumped and kept throwing punches. SpitFlame and Finite (as they were both pegasi) flew and dodged the attacks while slashing the trolls. Blade kept shooting arrows, hoping to bring one down.

Eventually, the trolls knocked both SpitFlame's and Finite's weapons off their hooves, and slammed them to the ground. Blade shot another arrow, but a troll came to her side and hit her. She slid through the dirt, besides the two pegasi. The troll up front was about to body slam the ponies when a rock hit his ear.

"Ow! T'was that!?" he turned, seeing Clover backing up in fear. "Why you little-" he ran up to Clover. Blade, SpitFlame and Finite got up and saw Clover was about to be crushed.

That was until a big flash of light and wind splashed over the woods, blinding them all. The ponies held their arms up to block their faces, while the trolls just gave them screams. The light stopped with a hum. The four girls looked up a hill to see a dark silhouette. They all huddled up in a fighting stance while Clover hid behind them. The dark figure had a pointy hat, and something was wagging beneath his chin. It was Star Swirl.

The ponies all smiled and sheathed their weapons.

"Star Swirl!" Clover yelled as she ran up to the wizard and hugged him. He gave a quiet laugh.

"Didn't I tell you ponies not to separate?"

"No," Finite started. "You never told us."

"Well I am telling you now; and what caused this incident?"

SpitFlame pointed to Clover. "Clover over there thought it was a good idea to pay the trolls a visit."

Clover blushed and gave a sheepish smile. "Um, sorry?" she spoke weakly.

"No need for apologies." said Star Swirl. "We must journey forth and get out of this swamp."

"Wait a minute." interrupted Blade, as she turned around. "What about the trolls?"

At that moment, they all turned in fear. What they saw were three large statues, all having looks of horror. The trolls were turned into stone; and it made quite the sight.

"Come on!" said Star Swirl again, grabbing their attention. "We just be going now!" and they did. The fellowship ventured passed through the dirty ponds and hanging moss from the dark swamp, and finally made it to a more natural looking forest. The trees were high and dark. They were now in the Wild Lands.

--

In the Wild Lands, it is said that the forest is queer. Everything in it is very much more alive, more aware of what is going on, so to speak, than things are in the Hayseed Swamp; and the trees do not like strangers. They watch you. They are usually content merely to watch you, as long as daylight lasts, and don't do much. Occasionally the most unfriendly ones may drop a branch, or stick a root out, or grasp at you with a long vine. But at night things can be most alarming, or so I am told. Star Swirl has been there only once or twice after dark, and then only near the hedge. The trees whisper to each other, passing news and plots along in an unintelligent language; and the branches swayed and groped without any wind. The trees do actually move, and can surround strangers and hem them in. The Wild Lands remain to be one of the most dangerous forests around.

--

"Is it only the trees that are dangerous?" asked Finite.

"There are various queer things living deep in the forest, and on the far side," said Blade Dusk, "or at least I have heard so; but I have never seen any of them; but something makes paths."

"I assume there are dangers in these parts," said said Finite, "and we are all vulnerable."

"We will just have to find out." answered Spitflame.

Star Swirl and Clover remained silent; Blade continued. "Whenever one comes inside one finds open paths; but they seem to shift and change from time to time in a queer fashion."

"What about these paths you speak of?" Clover asked at last, walking besides them.

"Not far from this tunnel of leaves there is, or was for a long time, the beginning of quite a broad path leading to the Duchy of Norhart (a path which lies beyond the mountains, west of the Wild Lands), and then on more or less in our direction, east and a little north. That is the path we should most likely end up on."

"Yes, we shall." said Star Swirl. "We will cross a few kilometers and turn east from here, over the dark mountains." And so they kept on going.

--

The ponies now left the tunnel-gate and rode across the wide hollow. On the far side was a faint path leading up on the floor of the forest, a hundred yards and more beyond the hedge; but it vanished as soon as it brought them under the trees. Looking back they could see the dark line of the hedge through the stems of the trees that were already thick about them. Looking ahead they could see only tree trunks of innumerable sizes and shapes: straight or bent, twisted, leaning, squat or slender, smooth or gnarled and branched; and all the stems were green or grey with moss and slimy, shaggy growths.

Clover seemed fairly cheerful. "You had better lead on and find that path," Finite said to Star Swirl. "Don't let us lose one another, or forget where the hedge lies!"

"It will take us a while," said Blade, "but we will get there-eventually."

They picked a way among the trees, each of them plodded along, carefully avoiding the many writhing and interlacing roots. There was no undergrowth. The ground was rising steadily, and as they went forward it seemed that the trees became taller, darker, and thicker. There was no sound, except an occasional drip of moisture falling through the still leaves. For the moment there was no whispering or movement among the branches; but they all got an uncomfortable feeling that they were being watched with disapproval, deepening to dislike and even enmity. The feeling steadily grew, until they found themselves looking up quickly, or glancing back over their shoulders, as if they expected a sudden blow.

There was not as yet any sign of a path, and the trees seemed constantly to bar their way. Finite suddenly felt that she could not bear it any longer, and without let out a shout. "Hey, hey!" she cried to the forest. "I am not going to do anything. Just let me pass through, will you?!"

The others halted startled; but the cry fell as if muffled by a heavy curtain. There was no echo or answer though the wood seemed to become more crowded and more watchful than before.

"I should not shout if I were you,"said Blade. "It does more harm than good."

Clover began to wonder if it were possible to find a way through, and if she should have come on this adventure; through this abominable forest. While SpitFlame stayed silent and kept walking straight, right behind Star Swirl, Finite was looking from side to side, and seemed uncertain which way to go. SpitFlame noticed it.

"It has not taken you long to lose us," she said. But at that moment Star Swirl gave a whistle of relief and pointed ahead.

"Well, well!" he said. "These trees do shift. There is our next checkpoint in front of us (or I hope so), but the path to it seems to have moved away!"

--

The light grew clearer as they went forward. Suddenly they came out of the trees and found themselves in a wide circular, grassy space. There was a sky above them, blue and clear to their surprise, for under the forest roof they had not been able to see the rising morning and the lifting of the mist. The sun was hot, however, high enough yet to shine down into the clearing, though its light was on the tree-tops. The leaves were all thick and greener about the edges of the glade, enclosing it with an almost solid wall. No tree grew there, only rough grass and many tall plants: stalky and faded hemlocks and wood-parsley, fire-weed seeding into fluffy ashes, and rampant nettles and thistles. A dreary place; but it seemed a charming and cheerful garden after the close forest.

The ponies felt encouraged, and looked up hopefully at the broadening daylight in the sky. At the far side of the glade there was a break in the wall of trees, and a clear path beyond it. They could see it running on into the wood, wide in places and open above, though every now and again the trees drew in and overshadowed it with their dark boughs. Up this path they trotted. They were still climbing gently, but they now went much quicker, and with better heart; for it seemed to them that the forest had relented, and was going to let them pass unhindered after all.

But after a while the air began to get hot and stuffy. The trees drew closer again on either side, and they could no longer see far ahead. Now stronger than ever they felt again the ill will of the wood pressing on them. So silent was it that the fall of their hooves, rustling on dead leaves and occasionally stumbling on hidden roots, seemed to thud in their ears. Clover tried to sing a song to encourage them, but her voice sank to a murmur.

O! Wanderers in the shadowed land

despair not! For though dark they stand,

all woods there be must end at last

and see the open sun go past:

the setting sun, the rising sun,

the day's end, or the day begun.

For east or west all woods must fail...

Fail-even as she said the word her voice faded into silence. The air seemed heavy and the making of the words wearisome. Just behind them a large branch from an old overhanging tree with a crash into the path. The trees seemed to close in before them.

"They do not like all that ending and failing," said Finite. "I should not sing any more at present. Wait until we do get to the edge, and then we will turn and give them a rousing chorus!"

She spoke cheerfully, and if she felt any great anxiety, she did not show it. The others were depressed, with Star Swirl thinking quietly. A heavy weight was settling steadily on Clover's heart, and she regretted now with every step forward that she had ever thought of challenging the menace of the trees. She was, indeed, just about to stop and propose going back (if that was still possible), when things took a new turn. The path stopped climbing, and became for a while nearly level. The dark trees drew aside, and ahead they could see the path going almost straight forward. Before them, but some distance off, there stood a green fill-top, rising like a bald head out of the encircling wood. The path seemed to be making directly for it.

--

They now hurried forward again, delighted with the thought of climbing out for a while above the roof of the forest. The path dripped, and then again began to climb upwards, leading them at at last the foot of the steep hillside. There it left the trees and faded into the turf. The wood stood all round the hill like thick hair that ended sharply in a circle round a shaven crown.

The ponies trotted to the top, winding round and round until they reached the top. There they stood and gazed about them. The air was gleaming and sunlit, but hazy; and they could not see to any great distance. Near at hand the mist was now almost gone; though here and there it lay in hollows of the wood, and to the south of them, out of a deep fold cutting right across the forest, the fog still rose like steam or wisps of white smoke.

"That," said Star Swirl, pointing with his hoof, "that is the line of the forest. It comes down out of the east hill and flows south-west through the midst of the forest to join the forest itself. We don't want to go that way! The east hill valley is said to be the queerest part of the whole wood-the center from which all the queerness comes, as it were."

The others looked in the direction that Star Swirl pointed out, but they could see little but mists over the damp and deep-cut valley; and beyond it the southern half of the forest faded from view.

"So," Blade started. "Now we should be going west if we ever want to reach past the Jotur Mountains."

"If you ask me, we should be on our way. Those mountains seem far," said SpitFlame, eyeing the misty mountains from afar, "and we really don't want to run into any goblin-ponies now do we!"

They all agreed and set off. The sun on the hill-top was now getting very hot. It must have been about eleven o' clock; but the autumn haze still prevented them from seeing much in other directions. In the west they could not make out either the line of the hedge or the valley of the east hill, which was beyond the Jotur Mountains. Northward, where they looked most hopefully, they could see nothing that might be the line of the great east road, for which they were heading west. They were on an island in a sea of trees, and the horizon was veiled.

On the south-western side the ground fell very steeply, as if the slopes of the hill were continued far down under the trees, like island-shores that really are the sides of a mountain rising out of deep waters. They sat on the green edge and looked over the woods below them, while they ate their mid-day meal. As the sun rose and passed noon they glimpsed far off in the west the grey-green lines of the woods that lay beyond the old forest on that side. That cheered them greatly; for it was good to see a sight of anything beyond the wood's borders. So they kept trotting down the forest, to the west. Eventually, nightfall came and they all rested.

--

That night they heard no noises; but either in her dreams or out of them, she could not tell which, Clover heard a sweet singing running through her mind.

In the morning, the ponies woke up.

"Get up everypony," said Star Swirl, "We still have much ground to cover if we wish to reach those mountains!"

"Yes, yes, we are up." said Blade. They all packed their equipment and headed off west again. The trees seemed to grow darker and thicker, and the air seemed to turn grey.

Their way round along the floor of the hollow, and round the green feet of a steep hill into another deeper and broader valley, and then over the shoulders of further hills, and down their long limbs, and up their smooth sides again, up on to new hill-tops and down into new valleys.

Few minutes later, they found themselves surrounded by white fog. The trees seemed to lessen, and the grass shortened. The fellowship turned from the sight and went down into a hollow circle. In the midst of it there stood a single stone, standing tall under the dim sun above, and at this hour casting no shadow. It was shapeless and yet significant: like a landmark, or a guarding finger, or more like a warning. But they were now hungry, and the sun was still at the fearless noon; so they set their backs against the east side of the stone. It was cool, as if the sun had no power to warm it; but at that time this seemed pleasant. There they took food and drink, and made as good a noon-meal under the open sky as anypony could wish; for the food came from Ponyville.

Riding over the hills, and eating their fill, the warm sun and scent of turf, lying a little too long, stretching out their legs and looking at the sky above their noses: these things are, perhaps, enough to explain what happened. However that may be: they woke suddenly and uncomfortably from a sleep they had never meant to take. The standing stone was cold, and it cast a long pale shadow that stretched eastward over them. The sun, a pale and watery yellow, was gleaming through the mist just above the west wall of the hollow in which they lay; north, south, and east, beyond the wall of fog was thick, cold and white. The air was silent, heavy and chill.

The ponies sprang to all fours in alarm, and ran to the western rim. They found that they were upon an island in the fog, which was colder and thicker than last time. Even as they looked out in dismay towards the setting sun, it sank before their eyes into a white sea, and a cold grey shadow sprang up in the east behind. This wasn't natural; somepony must have been doing this.

The fog rolled up to the walls and rose above them, and as it mounted it bent over their heads until it became a roof: they were shut in a hall of mist whose central pillar was the standing stone.

They felt as if a trap was closing about them; but they did not quite lose heart. They still remembered the hopeful view they had had of the line of the road ahead, and they still knew in which direction it lay. In any case, they now had so great dislike for that hollow place about the stone that no thought of remaining there was in their minds. They packed up as quickly as their chilled hooves would work.

"Single file everypony," said Star Swirl quietly; and so they were walking in a single file over the rim and down the long northward slope of the hill, down into the foggy sea; the entire time going west.

As they went down the mist became colder and damper, and their manes hung lank and dripping on their foreheads. When they reached the bottom it was so chill that they halted and got out cloaks and hoods, which soon became bedewed with grey drops. Then, picking up the pace, they went slowly on again, feeling their way by the rise and fall of the ground. They were steering, as well as they could guess, for the gate-like opening at the far northward end of the long valley which they had seen in the morning. Once they were through the gap, they had only to keep on in anything like a straight line and they were bound in the end to strike the road. Their thought did not go beyond that, except for a vague hope that perhaps away beyond the the edge of the mountains there might be no fog.

--

Their going was very slow. To prevent their getting separated and wandering in different directions they went in file, with Star Swirl leading. Clover was behind, and after her was Finite, SpitFlame and then Blade Dusk. The valley seemed to stretch on endlessly. Suddenly Clover saw a hopeful sign. On either side ahead a darkness began to loom through the mist; and she guessed that they were at least approaching the gap in the hills, the north-gate of the forest. If they could pass that, they would be free.

"Come on! Follow me!" She ran past Star Swirl and called back over her shoulder, and she hurried forward.

"Do not separate Clover! Clover!" Star Swirl's yell didn't reach her as she ran forward.

"Somepony you've got there." said Finite, and they all ran ahead.

Clover's hope soon changed to bewilderment and alarm. The dark patches grew darker, but they shrank; and suddenly she saw, towering ominous before he and leaning slightly towards one another like the pillars of a headless door, two huge standing stones. She could not remember having seen any sign of these in the valley, when she looked out from the hill in the morning. She passed between them almost before she was aware: and even as she did so darkness seemed to fall round her. When Clover looked back she found that she was alone: the others had not followed her; either that or they lost their way.

"Star Swirl!" she called. "Finite! SpitFlame! Blade! Come along! Where are you?"

There was no answer. Fear took her, and she ran back past the stones shouting wildly: "Star Swirl! Star Swirl! Blade!" The pony bolted into the mist and vanished. From some way off, or so it seemed, she thought she heard a cry: "Hoy! Clover! Hoy!" It was eastward, on her left as she stood under the great stones, staring and straining into the gloom. She plunged off in the direction of the call, and found herself going steeply uphill.

As she struggled on she called again, and kept on calling more and more frantically; but heard no answer for some time, and then it seemed faint and far ahead and high above her. "Clover! Hoy!" came the thin voices out of the mist: and then a cry that sounded like help! help! It often repeated, ending with a last help that trailed off into a long wail suddenly cut short. She stumbled forward with all the speed she could towards the cries; but the light was now gone, and clinging night had closed about her, so that it was impossible to be sure of any direction. She seemed all the time to be climbing up and up.

Only the change in the level of the ground at her hooves told her when she at last came to the top of a ridge or a hill. She was weary, sweating and yet chilled. It was wholly dark.

"Where are you!?" she cried out miserably.

There was no reply. She stood listening. She was suddenly aware that it was getting very cold, and that up here wind was beginning to blow, an icy wind. A change was coming in the weather. The mist was flowing past her now in shreds and tatters. Her breath was smoking, and the darkness was less near and thick. She looked up and saw with surprise that faint stars were appearing overhead amid and strands of hurrying cloud and fog. The wind began to hiss over the dead grass.

She imagined suddenly that she caught a muffled cry, and she made towards it; and even as she went forward the mist was rolled up and thrust aside, and the starry sky was unveiled. A glance showed her that she was now facing southwards and was on a round hill'top, which she must have climbed from the north. Out of the east the biting wind was blowing. To her right there loomed against the westward stars a dark black shape. A great barrow stood there.

"Where are you!?" she cried again, both angry and afraid.

"Here!" said a voice, deep and cold, that seemed to come out of the ground. "I am waiting for you!"

"No!" said Clover; but she did not run away. Her tired legs gave, and she fell on the ground. Nothing happened, and there was no sound. Trembling she looked up, in time to see a tall dark figure like a shadow against the stars. It leaned over her. She thought there were two eyes, very cold though lit with a pale light that seemed to come from a remote distance. Then a a grip colder than ice grabbed her neck.

Just then, a big flash of light encompassed her view, and the dark black figure seemed to shake. The last thing Clover heard was yelling before she fell unconscious.