Dark Age of Time

Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening

The door at the far end of the throne room slowly opened, creaking loudly on rusty hinges as a white unicorn clad in full plate armor walked in.

His purple and gold armor was simple to the point that it was adorned with various campaign badges the unicorn had received through his long career, which were inscribed directly onto the armor. A gold and purple crest ran sideways on his helmet, marking him as an officer for easy identification on the chaotic battlefield. He had long since given up his battered ceremonial shield in favor of his currently sheathed sword, which was nicked and bloodstained from defending the castle from invaders. On his right hip was a used ceremonial flintlock pistol in a fancy holster.

He paid no mind to the shattered stained glass lining the floor on one side. Neither did he pay attention to the blood, dirt, and sweat covering his armor. He even ignored the sounds of battle that drifted in through the now open window; swords and shields clanged against each other, mixing in with the occasional blast of a pistol. As he walked with heavy echoing hoof steps towards the alicorn sitting on the throne, he slowly took his helmet off and cradled it in his right arm. Revealing a white face full of dirt and a blue mane, equally dirt filled and matted down with sweat. A faint black mist flowed out the sides of his solid green eyes while his horn was tinged black from using his magic to near exhaustion.

He knelt down on his right knee and bowed his head when he reached the actual throne. "My queen," the unicorn began in a quiet, but powerful voice. "We are holding the line, but we're losing ponies by the minute. It won't be long until the horde of enemies breakthrough and storm the castle."

The white alicorn sat up and adjusted her purple cape. Jewels inlaid in the silver trim reflected light and drew attention to her from any passerby. A silver crown adorned her head. Its various purple, red, and yellow gems also glinted in the light as if newly polished. Hugging her curves was an elegant purple dress, also trimmed in silver like the cape but without the gems. The long hem of the dress was almost gracefully laying over the side of the throne along with the cape. Her almost skeletal-like fingers were encased in thin gloves and a pair of silver slippers adorned her perfectly trimmed and polished hooves. Adorned around her neck was a black necklace with a fancy design and a red gem in the center.

A large jeweled staff sat next to her. The top of it was thought to be ornamental because it had a large blue topaz in the center with a few smaller ones floating around it in a magic field, but the alicorn could easily manipulate the gem to bring the internal spell to bear on a target. She grabbed the staff in one hand and tapped the bottom blue gem on the ground. "General, I believe it is time to enact Order sixty-six."

"My queen?" he hesitated in rising and chose to keep his gaze down at her hooves.

She got up from the throne and slowly stepped down the steps, appearing to glide because of the dress which was made to touch the floor for that purpose. "You heard me. I will take my personal airship and leave the city with a guard contingent. You. Will. Give the order. The one we have been planning for."

The alicorn stopped just short of the unicorn. All he saw was her regal purple dress and the jeweled bottom of the staff as it was placed under his chin. She slowly lifted his head up to where he was forced to look into her blue eyes. The gem in her necklace glowed a soft red, drawing his attention to it as her eyes flickered red.

"Y-yes my queen, I will give the order," the unicorn replied, causing the alicorn to smile.

"Good, I would have been disappointed if I were forced to take your life." She slowly stretched her arm out and fixed the sleeve of the dress as she added, "your pistol. Give it to me." Without any hesitation, the unicorn slowly drew the single shot flintlock pistol and held the grip out first. It was a ceremonial item that was adorned with engravings along with an inscription on the right side. The alicorn placed it in her belt and made sure it was snug between her dress and belt. When it didn't fall, she nodded. "Rise."

He did, but slowly. The unicorn placed his helmet back onto his head and drew his battle-worn sword. He looked down at the hilt and noticed that the gem was milky, indicating that it was nearly depleted and would need to be replaced if he wanted to keep its cutting power for more than ten minutes of use. With a frown, the unicorn turned to go. But the alicorn grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her again. "My queen?" he askednwith a slight metallic echo from the helmet, his frown staying on his face but she could not see it.

"Where is my airship's pilot? He was supposed to have been at my side by now."

The unicorn glanced at the large doors for a few long moments before looking at the alicorn again. "I do not know, my queen. Spell travel over long distances through the chaos realm is complex and it is uncertain when he will appear, or where. I only hope it is soon. Bu reprimand the transporter when they arrive."

"Then I'll pilot it myself." she hissed with a glare, shoving the unicorn towards the door and walking ahead of him. "Make haste and do not waste precious time. Order sixty-six must be activated before my airship leaves the city."

The unicorn took one last look at the throne before following after his queen with the knowledge that it was the last time he would ever see the throne.

*** ***

Whiskey opened his rose pink eyes as the light from the spell died down. It took him a few moments to register the fact that he was no longer inside the aerodrome hangar, he was outside. But that was not the first thing he noticed. The first thing Whiskey noticed was his stomach flipping around and trying to exit his mouth like he was on a roller coaster going over a hill. The second, and probably most important thing, was the fact that he was in the air falling straight down. Towards a wall of white lined by rocks.

Before Whiskey could react beyond covering his face with his hands in a futile gesture to protect his face should he hit rock, he slammed into the snow covered hillside, tossing a cloud of fresh powder into the air. His body shuddered from the impact as all the air was knocked out of his lungs. As he began sliding down the sloped hill, he tried to stop himself by clawing at the snow with his hands. They grabbed at the loosely packed tiny ice particles of the freshly fallen snow and all he got was handfuls of snow as he began tumbling out of control.

He did not see the edge of the slope. In fact, all Whiskey saw was a cloud of snow that obscured the sky as he became a ragdoll that tumbled faster and faster. Eventually landing on his back and slowly sliding to a stop at the sheer cliff edge almost a hundred yards from his impact point.

Whiskey laid there staring up at the clear blue sky in confusion and wondered to himself, 'am I dead or something?' Because one moment he was talking to a strange unicorn, and the next moment he was falling from the sky.

He involuntarily shuddered as a cold wind whipped the loose powder across his chest. Whiskey slowly sat up, groaning and wincing as his back popped and cracked in protest. He looked down at his grease covered blue coveralls over striped legs. The fabric was frayed in various places, indicating he either did not like to change much or the coveralls were very old, and a few of the pockets were stitched back together with different cloth to form a patchwork appearance. After a few quick moments of checking himself over, he ran an ebony black and grey hand through his wild two-tone mane. The snow clinging to the zebra's face did little to hide his stripes and was quickly brushed off. Luckily for him, his coveralls had long sleeves and was made from a thick enough material that the wind barely cut its the way through. He knew he had to find shelter and fast, before he froze.

Just below the cliff Whiskey sat on was another slope that held a rocky snow covered path down the mountainside. At the very bottom was what appeared to be the remains of a large billboard covered by snow on the advertising side.

With a couple of curses and a few popped joints, Whiskey got up and began limping his way along the cliff side towards the path down. His trek was slow due to the deepness of the near knee high snow, which caused him to wish for a pair of skis.

They did not appear out of thin air.

*** ***

Whiskey stared up at the faded billboard and tried to suppress a shiver. Nearly half of billboard was gone to the elements while the rest of it was heavily faded and partly covered by snow. What the zebra could make out wasn't much, not even a name. All he could see was a round seal with a large star in the center and smaller stars around it.

Something about the drawing felt familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. Whiskey was sure he was seen it before somewhere, yet the name and place was lost. He quickly checked his pockets again and slowly removed an ice cold metal bar from of a knee pocket. As he turned it over to look at the stamp, the gold glinted a little in the sunlight and almost blinded him.

The seal did not match the billboard. His gold bar had a picture of a unicorn with a heavily styled mane and a crown on her head, not a star surrounded by other stars.

Whiskey put the bar back into the pocket whence it came and looked at the ladder on the billboard's support tube. He then looked at his freezing hands, flexing them slightly to keep the blood flowing, and wished for gloves.

For a few long moments, Whiskey looked up the mountain he had walked down and sighed deeply. Icy wind whipped at his face, chilling him to the bone and causing him to shiver almost uncontrollably despite his jumpsuit. He recalled, that where he was from, it was summertime and there was no snow anywhere. But luckily for the zebra, it was very late winter-early springtime so the snow would be melting soon. Though he didn't know that.

Whiskey turned around to face the snow covered road and frowned when he saw that it stretched for miles until disappearing around a slow bend. The pink eyed zebra glanced left, then right in an effort to figure out where he was. Faintly scattered trees dotted the landscape on either side and mountains rose to the sky, blocking him in. To Whiskey it seemed that the only way to go was forward because he sure as hell wasn't going to climb the mountain. So that was the direction he traveled, forward.

*** ***

Night had begun to fall across Equestria as the sun slowly set. Ponies in the various towns scattered across the land began lighting what candlelit street lamps still remained in their towns, and guards began to patrol the immediate area surrounding the towns. Very few ponies remember the stories told by their grandparents of the old 'golden' days, and even fewer were actually alive to see the fall. The effects of the day Equestria fell in on itself nearly ninety years before were still felt everywhere. Though, what effects there were, were easy enough to spot; it was as if society had collapsed on itself and the world became a figurative wasteland nearly overnight. No longer was there a central government to tell every pony what to do and neither was there any set rules regarding what constituted law. Ponies cowered in their towns or roamed in gangs while clinging to the idea that they were the last 'civilized' area to remain and the other towns were full of marauders. Laws were rewritten or tossed out on a whim and justice was usually applied by sword point.

Rings had his spyglass trained on an odd lone traveller. The main lens was partially broken and gave an odd view, but it still worked. Rings was an earth pony guard for a small town and wore the standard grey cloth uniform for the town with a cap and a crossbow for defense. He had heard of zebras before from stories. Yet he had never seen one before until today. He watched the strange striped pony walk along the faint snow covered the road towards the town and noted he carried no gear of any kind beyond a grimy jumpsuit, nor did he appear to have any weapons.

'It's gotta be a trap,' Rings thought as he collapsed his cracked spyglass and picked up his crossbow, aiming it down at the striped pony.

Whiskey stopped outside the gate, slowly raising his hands up when he spotted the guard going for his weapon. Whiskey placed his locked together hands on the top of his head and waited for a while, and waited some more.

Eventually, when it seemed apparent that nothing was going to attack, Rings shouted, "what's your business here?"

"I would like a place to rest and get a warm meal," Whiskey shouted, hoping the guard wasn't stupid enough to shoot him for being a zebra. "I've been walkin' all day. I will only do those two things, and be gone."

"Where are you coming from?"

Whiskey shrugged. "Some mountain. No idea the name of it, but it's back that way," he nodded towards the mountain behind him while keeping his hands on his head.

Rings glanced up the road at the far mountain and possibly knew which one the zebra might be talking about. "Coal Mountain?" Rings called out.

"I guess," Whiskey shrugged again. "Look, I have important business to get to and I can go around the town. But I prefer to rest tonight. I can pay a small fee in gold if you want."

"Gold?" Rings brought his gaze back down to the zebra. "What do you mean gold?"

"Gold, it's a precious yellow metal everypony covets because it's used as currency to buy things, like a way into a town. May I get into a pocket and show you since you seem to not know the concept of it?"

"Do it slowly and no tricks."

With a nod, Whiskey slowly stretched his hand out and gently brought it down to the pocket containing his gold bar. As he slowly removed it, he said, "it's five ounces of pure gold."

Rings slowly took his trigger hand off the crossbow and pulled his spyglass out again. A gentle flick of the wrist caused it to extend and the earth pony placed it against his eye. He had a bit of trouble keeping it trained on Whiskey due to using it one handed, so he set the crossbow down and used both hands. In the failing light he saw the faint glint of gold. To him the gold looked like the real thing, but he was not sure since he could not physically touch it. Regardless, the rule was that anypony carrying gold was to be let inside, the gold tested for purity, and a bargain would be struck for it.

"Alright, give me a minute," Rings shouted.

Whiskey sat there and patiently waited. He watched a few guards run over to the first and the four of them had a hushed conversation. Whiskey waited, and waited, for them to come to a decision, even hearing a few angered shouts. But, eventually the small door at the bottom of the gate opened and the four guards aimed their crossbows down at him.

"Walk through the gate nice and slow," Rings shouted.

"Alright," Whisky sighed deeply, his breath formed a faint cloud of icy fog ahead of him. He slowly got up and walked towards the gate. The four guards kept their eyes and crossbows trained on him the whole time. When he reached the small door, Whiskey glanced back at the mountain before stepping through the door.

On the other side he was met by a short and frail looking unicorn in robes that covered her from hoof to shoulders. Her frayed dark purple and gold hood was down, showing a heavily wrinkled face and a solid grey mane. In the pale moonlight and dark town, it was near impossible for Whiskey to see the actual color of the unicorn. She held her right hand out with the palm up as she said quietly, "gold, please."

Whiskey glanced up at the wall and noticed the guards still had their crossbows trained on him. As slow as he could, Whiskey gently stretched his arm out and opened his hand, dropping the bar of gold into the unicorn's hand. It did not reach her hand. Instead, a swirling field of purple magic surrounded the hand and the bar as the gold was examined by the old pony.

She nodded slowly as she flipped it over with a subtle flick of her fingers. "The seal is correct for crystal gold, and the composition feels right for pure gold..." she snapped her fingers together, causing the bar to turn to molten slag on the spot. It began to swirl around with the magic field for a few moments before coalescing into thirty coin sized molten bits. The unicorn snapped her fingers again and the slag began cooling, revealing that it was solid and pure gold with hardly any impurities.

"Where did you get this bar, traveller?" she asked, her old voice was shaky but forceful. Whiskey said nothing and stretched his cupped hands out. The unicorn slowly began to drop the bits into his hands one by one. "The desert, a jungle, or... a mountain perhaps?" she dropped two bits at the same time she said mountain and stopped, causing Whiskey's expression to change to one of mild shock. "Ah, I see by your expression that you walked from the mountain. A lonely road that is."

She dropped the rest of the bits into his hands and picked one up, causing him to frown. "That's mine," Whiskey said to her.

"A gold bit for the services of an old court mage," she snapped her finger and smiled as both the magic glow and gold bit disappeared into thin air. "Enjoy your stay at Moccasin Hill. Might I suggest the Drunken Mare? They have the best bath in town and the best price." Before Whiskey could respond, the unicorn clapped her hands together and spread them out before walking off while mumbling to herself about seemingly nothing, and everything.

"Hey!" Whiskey shouted at the unicorn. "How'd you know?!"

"Logic!" she called back to him and waved towards the gate. "Only one road that way."

*** ***

The Drunken Mare was like any other tavern/inn that dotted Equestria's landscape. In the center of the room sat a sunken fire pit to provide warmth and light for the nearest tables, its orange coals were not steadily stoked despite the cold. Despite that fact, it still warmed the place to a temperature that was deemed comfortable. On one side of the first floor sat the bar with a large mirror behind the counter. Music was provided by a standup piano near the stairs to the second floor. Scattered about the room were tables filled with ponies of varying states ranging from sober to passed out drunk.

A pair of striped hands pushed open the batwing doors separating the Drunken Mare from the outside. Soft music and laughter greeted the visitor as he stepped inside. Most of the patrons seated at the filled tables ignored the pony in the stained jumpsuit. That is until they started to notice the striped steel grey and ebony face of the visitor along with his wild two-tone mane, and it soon became deathly silent in the bar.

Whiskey glanced over at the large firepit providing warmth for the room and took note of the tools strewn around it for keeping the blaze going. He then glanced over at a table of ponies playing a game of cards and gave them the faintest of nods. The ponies had their sword hands gripped on the hilt of their weapons; axe, dagger, sword or mace. Ready to draw at the slightest hint that the zebra was going to attack.

The group of ponies watched Whiskey as he slowly made his way over to the bar and set a hand down. "I'd like a room and some whiskey," he said in a heavily accented  voice like leather. "And I can pay in gold."

"Everypony carries gold, mister. Did you think we used buttons for currency? A room is ten gold bits a night," the barkeep nodded slowly as he set a bottle of whiskey down on the bartop along with a shot glass. "It'll get you a room, warm bath and a meal in the morning."

"And the whiskey?" the zebra turned his head a little to the side. His gaze was not directly on the barkeep, but on the mirror so he could keep an eye on the ponies that had watched him enter. Their full plate armor looked like it had seen better days and bore no houses or town insignias on the shoulder plates or chest front. Their sheathed weapons and helmets sat on the table near their cards.

Slowly, Whiskey set the ten gold pieces down on the bar top. After a few moments of checking their weight, the barkeep pocketed them and said. "I'll include it in the price of the room for a weary traveller. You look like you could use a drink."

Whiskey's hand gripped the tiny glass after the barkeep filled it, and he slowly raised it up in a salute to the ponies in the mirror. His gaze never left the armored ponies that were still watching him. "Here's looking at you," he nodded at them. Then placed the glass to his lips and threw his head back. His mouth and throat were burned by the liquid as it quickly made his way down into his belly where it warmed his gut.

"I'll have Ruby show you to your room," the barkeep said as Whiskey put his glass down.

"No," Whiskey slowly shook his head and poured himself another shot. "Let me guess, it's up the stairs and first door on the right?"

"Yes..." the barkeep eyed Whiskey suspiciously and wondered how he could have known that. So he asked him, "how did you know?"

"Top floor is partially lit with the a side window being dark. Fifty-fifty chance of it being unoccupied, but with your vacancy sign out front. That puts the chance to pretty much a hundred percent." Whiskey tipped his head back and drank the amber contents of his glass.

"I suppose it does..."

"I want the bath to be filled before I head up. Warm water, not ice water, and not steaming hot." His gaze stayed on the ponies that were still watching him.

"It'll be done," the small earth pony said with a nod, drawing Whiskey's attention to her. Ruby's coat was a light yellow and her shoulder length mane was a deep red like a rose. A sleeveless forest green dress ran down to just above her hooves and looked to be cleaned often. She quickly picked up a bucket and ran towards the stairs on the left side of the building, her tail and long dress flowed on the artificial breeze she created as she moved.

Whiskey pushed the shot glass back towards the barkeep with a nod of thanks. "That's some fine alcohol you have bottled there. How much for all of it?"

The barkeep picked it up and stared at it, his old mind slowly churning over the value of the contents.

Whiskey took the time to feel around his pockets again to make sure he still had everything. He felt the remaining gold in a leg pocket, his small cigar case in a chest pocket with four cigars, and an adjustable wrench. With a satisfied internal sigh, Whiskey set his hands on the bartop. "Well?"

The barkeep looked up from the bottle and said, "fifteen bits."

"I'll pass," Whiskey replied, slowly running a hand through his two-tone mane. "There a place around here I can pick up a weapon or armor?"

"There's Warmare's, but the shop is closed for the night. It's two blocks down that way near the gate," he pointed in the general direction of the gate, which was towards the stairs.

Whiskey glanced in that direction and nodded his thanks even though he could not physically see the shop. He then slowly left the bar and made his way over to the stairs while keeping an eye on the group of ponies that had been watching him.