The Scroll of Exalted Ponies

The lady deathknight, who seemed to prefer that Speaker, Shimmer and Sully call her “Tita” wasted no time wrestling the mad ghost in charge of the archive to the ground. With a move that Tita seemed way too comfortable with executing, she ripped the ghost in twain, spraying plasmic fluids all over the floor.

As the half-circle began to sift through the massive archive, the files mostly being made of off-white or ash-grey paper similar to the ransom-note found in Chung Do, it quickly became clear that under Lord Stalwarts the The Street of Swords had consumed millions of ghost slaves in its soulsteel foundries, and over the centuries worked at least half as many into madness and oblivion. One thing the circle couldn’t find was any reason to go through the archive…

“Uhm, what exactly are we looking for?” Speaker wondered out loud.

Tita, annoyed that she had to explain everything, snapped at Speaker: “and here I thought that the Bodhisattva meant it when he’d told me that you were a smart bunch. Isn’t it obvious what we’re looking for?!”

The three celestial exalts giving her quizzical looks told the deathknight that the answer to that question was no.

“Ok – we’re looking for shipping papers. The Street of Swords was, until a week ago, the underworld’s biggest producer of soulsteel. A lot of Deathlords received shipments of the stuff. If you want to know where the Barbate Arbiter is, then look for where he ordered Soulsteel shipped to” Tita explained, her tone condescending, as she tossed around more scrolls and ledgers that clearly didn’t list what she was looking for.

It took about half a second before Shimmer objected: “Hold on – we don’t need to know where the Arbiter is. He kidnapped the younger brother of a former circlemate of ours. We’re here to find where he is and rescue him!”

There was a loud clatter as the deathknight dropped everything she had been floating about herself. She turned around, slowly, to face Shimmer: “Are you fucking kidding me? You just need to go to the quadruple dwelling and poke around… fucking hell did we just waste almost two hours here for nothing?”

“Well you seemed quite certain about what we needed to do – none of us are that familiar with this place” Speaker said apologetically.
Tita wasn’t impressed: “Always double-check when working with someone who had a job delegated to them – do you have any how often stuff gets lost in translation around here?”

A bit of shouting and comparing of notes later, it turned out that the circle needed to go to the Deathlord’s stygian estate – one of the thirteen mansions that surrounded the mouth of the void, the ones that the circle tricked into lockdown earlier to get Sunrise and the Bodhisatva to the mouth of the void itself.

It was decided that the circle would wait for Cash and Sunrise in Stalwart’s mansion. This idea was quickly discarded when it was discovered that the mansion had been thoroughly looted and completely covered in plasmic graffiti… as well as various bodily excressions, primarily large angry rants written in blood or smeared feces. The weird thing about this was that ghosts didn’t eat or excrete, so where that poo was from was anyone’s guess.

Either way: Stalwart had obviously been quite unpopular – and a lot of ghosts had taken the opportunity to vent their frustration on the now quite thoroughly deceased ghost’s home and possessions. Amid the mostly empty streets of the district, the square in front of Stalwart’s mansion was littered with broken furnite – anything that could have been tossed into the street from the place had apparently been treated accordingly.

Sullen Hoof noted that the pattern of destruction, while random and clearly the act of many disparate souls working independently, all bore traits of cathartic release: “The ghosts who did this were very relieved to be able to do enact this”

“Nobody in Stygia liked the idea of a district lord allied with the Deathlords” Tita glumly noted, kicking over a broken chair.

A short while later Cash and Sunrise showed up. Cash had apparently taken off his disguise, but both of them seemed rather amused – the council meeting had apparently gone well.

“Had fun at the meeting?” Shimmer shouted as the two approached.

Cash let out a loud laugh as he got near the circle: “Oh you have no idea. I haven’t seen melodrama like that since once had to foal-sit for this troupe of traveling actors… they were just priceless”

Sunrise added, with a distinct bemused tone, that at the start of the meeting over half of the other councilors thought that Cash had killed and mutilated himself to better fit in with them, due to his disguise. Cash couldn’t help but giggle: “and the other half was so terrified of me pulling a stunt like what I originally did when we walked around here to distract the Deathlords that they constantly tried to prevent me from talking. It was hilarious”

With the circle assembled, Sullen Hoof updated Cash and Sunrise on where they needed to go. As they were all led towards the Arbiter’s Stygian home, Tita warned them about the place: “Of all the Deathlord estates here, the Arbiter keeps his open. Since he’s so popular among the Deathknights the place is often used as a meeting place…”

“So we’re risking running into exactly how many abyssals there?” Speaker asked, not liking the idea of walking into a hotbed of deathknights.

Tita laughed, which looked really weird since she didn’t really have a mouth – only a throat-hole at the bottom of the front of the remaining half of her head: “Yes, yes we are. There will likely be dozens of abyssal there – over fifty when there something interesting going on there – but don’t worry. You see, the place has a very unique dress-code that will keep you all safe, provided that none of you flare your caste mark or anima there”

Tita led the circle to a long line of sheds next to a large walled compound. Sunrise recognized the place as being near the mouth of oblivion – and indeed, everyone in the circle could feel that the air was a bit colder… but oddly enough it also had an ever so slightly calming feel to it. Sunrise noted that it was part of the ‘allure’ of oblivion. Tita chimed in, adding that any pony without enlightened essence would be driven mad by it, and be compelled to jump in into it.

“Lovely – now explain this dress-code thing and how it’ll let us enter, please?” Sullen Hoof inquired, annoyed that Tita seemed so willing to help to talk about other things than the topic at hoof.

Tita opened the door to one the sheds. As the stone door silently swung open a hideous ghostly servant that appeared to have been similarly face-butchered, just like the deathknight, only the ghost’s massive cranial wound was still open and was far more jagged… with several trickles of blood and other messy plasmic fluids leaking out from various bits of dangly flesh. It said nothing, silently ushering the circle inside.

“Ok, here’s the deal: The Barbate Arbiter has a massive hate-boner on glory-hounds. To this end he demands that all deathknights in his service gets the facejob. He calls us his faceless legion” Tita said, gesturing to her mutilated head.

Pointing to a rack of black cloaks, with large slightly luminescent clasps set with large green gems, Tita continued: “The Arbiter has decreed that seeking personal glory is the greatest source of strife and failures there is – so everyone who wants to help out at the Quadruple Dwelling of Chthonian Desolation, the Arbiter’s estate next door here – has to use these: They make you look like me, via illusions, and prevent you from saying your name”

“Cash, correct me if I’m wrong, but organizing ponies so they work together with no prospects of individual credit to for their work… that doesn’t strike me as a very good way of making ponies work for you” Speaker wondered out loud.

Cash, already trying on different cloaks to find one that fit, mused: “Actually it can work really well – Tita, tell me, how does the Arbiter reward his agents for a job well done?”

“He doesn’t reward individuals. If the whole of the faceless finishes a project, or accomplishes a worthwhile deed, then the whole is collectively rewarded with access to new tools and libraries of ancient knowledge. The Arbiter encourages his agents to make the things they need themselves – and similarly he often allows deathknights from other Deathlords to participate in faceless projects, as long as credit is only given to the faceless” Tita notes, wondering if the circle at all understood how out of the ordinary it was to see a Deathlord willingly letting agents of other Deathlords use his workshops and libraries to their own ends.

As everyone put on the cloaks, the illusion from the gemstones became apparent: One’s face disappeared, as if you didn’t have a mouth, nostrils, or eyes, and one’s coat appeared strikingly green. The black cloak constrasted starkly with the green coat and featureless face of the wearer… and true enough, even one’s speech sounded strangely indistinct. You could recognize your own voice, but everyone else sounded oddly similar.

“Ok, before I put on my cloak – yes, even his own deathknights have to do this while at quad house – we have to agree on some ground rules. You will not be able to identify each other until you take the cloak off, and they do not come off while inside quad house. To identify each other we have to agree on a hoof-sign we can all make, so we know if we’re part of the same group – any suggestions on what it can be?” Tita asked, as she floated a cloak over herself, the illusion actually giving her a full head, albeit without eyes, nostrils or mouth.

The circle agreed on a simple circular gesture of the sun as a means to identify each other.

Once everyone had a cloak on a door appeared opposite the door that had led into the shed. Through it the circle entered the Quadruple Dwelling of Chthonian Desolation… and the first thing that struck the circle was the smell: It was the most intense and foul smell the circle had ever encountered. Two of the faceless in the group vomited.

One of the faceless gestured for the circle’s attention, making the agreed upon gesture: “In quad house the Arbiter has everything. This includes stolen things and kidnap victims. We will need to search the archives in the lower levels to find a reference to the one you seek, along with directions to where he is kept and what has been done to him – the Arbiter is a stickler for paperwork, though he has servant archivists here to do that for you: You just report what you’ve made and its recorded for future reference”

Another of the faceless nodded: “Ok, lead the way”

“There are four – this is the quad house, not singular house. I suggest we all meet back here in two hours. This is the lobby of the House of Play and Bile”

Thus the group of faceless split up. It was impossible to tell who went where – Speaker only knew that he soon found himself in a large library, after having delved into the sublevels of this strange necrotic manse.

Making heads and tails of the essence flow of the place was a weird exercise in underworld physics. It had quickly become apparent that the manse connected to the underground zone the Bodhisattva had called the labyrinth – but at the same time the manse kept things orderly, though in a very disturbing way. There were rooms where mad faceless ghosts tumbles around in piles of shit and rotting filth which connected to the hallways of the manse, but the hallways and the rooms clearly didn’t share the same spacial geometry… but ultimately Speaker peered into a room that turned out to be a vast library of scrolls.

Approaching the librarian, another mutilated faceless ghost chained to the front desk of the library, Speaker recalled the instructions that the faceless – likely Tita – had given the group before they had dispersed regarding interacting with others in the manse: Never allow anyone to tell you what to do, just ignore anyone who questioned your motives, and always stay focused on what you were there for – because the manse could easily offer up countless distractions that might appear superficially interesting, but would ultimately become a meaningless waste of time. The room with the poo-tumblers were likely such a place, though how anyone would consider that fun was being Speaker.
After getting directions from the faceless ghost on where the ledgers on kidnappings were Speaker quickly found what he was looking.

It was quite weird: It just felt way too easy… why would such information be available to anyone who entered the manse? This place was just begging to be filled up with spies… and here it was, with green ink on parchment wrought of flayed flesh: “Chung Onyx, stored in stasis crystal in the Punishment Incentive Storage Section. Release only possible pending direct approval from the Barbate Arbiter. Kidnap/capture reason: Blackmail”

Well that… was easy enough. Now where was this Storage Section? Hmm… and who else had the Arbiter kidnapped? This ledger, and the dozen others on same bookshelf, were quite voluminous. There were tens of thousands of ponies in the books, and the kidnapping or capture dates went back several thousand years… though they seemed to have increased greatly in the last few years, which coincided with the appearance of the deathknights.

As Speaker kept perusing the ledgers, reading names that he had never heard of, he kept running into listed kidnapping reasons such as ‘Deep Rot Replacement’ or ‘Deep Rot expansion’. What was Deep Rot? The Bodhisattva had mentioned it, hadn’t he? Something about an intelligence analysis project of some kind. But why kidnap ponies for that? Maybe the project ran on slave labor?

It was then that Speaker came across several entries that sent chills down his spine: The entries for Deep Rot expansion ceased – only replacement ones appeared – as well as entries with kidnap or capture reasons mentioned ‘Preliminary resources to End Time Relay prototyping, pending finalized design specifications from Deep Rot’.

Common ponies wouldn’t see how such obscure project names would be bad – hell, Speaker knew that all the Deathlords had ongoing projects aimed at destroying or conquering creation, so it really shouldn’t have surprised him to see the Arbiter having a project that hinted of ending creation somehow… the problem was that it was a reference to something he himself had envisioned back during the primordial war.
Asking the librarian for information on the End Time Relay turned out to be fruitless: It said that those files were for one of the Arbiter’s private projects, and thus off limits without specific permission given from that very deathlord.

“Ok, then where can I find information on Deep Rot” Speaker asked, figuring that if that the kidnapping ledgers indicated that the End Time Relay hadn’t been fully designed yet, then going to that place might yield more information.

About half an hour later Speaker was ready to vomit. The highly detailed descriptions, the schematics, the large paintings of sickening motifs… Deep Rot was an abomination. If it could be destroyed before it finished producing the designs for the End Time Relay, then it would be double the victory.

Speaker left the library after having witnessed the disturbing ritual by which the faceless ghost librarian tortured a ghost slave into utter destruction, reforming the mutilated ghost slave into a copy of the book Speaker wanted to check out. Suffice to say it made him utterly regret wanting to bring a copy of the “Complete guide to Deep Rot” with him – but he took hearth in knowing that putting an end to that horror would bring peace to so many other souls.

Meeting back in the lobby of the house of Play and Bile, which apparently was the wing of the quad house that housed most of the entertainment that the Arbiter’s estate offered, as well as various discussion forums on topics that Speaker really didn’t care much for.

After making the agreed upon gesture towards several groups of faceless, Speaker finally came across one that reciprocated it – they left quad house together through one of the exits into the dressing room sheds… and Speaker was not the only one who breathed a heavy sigh of relief upon leaving the stench and vile atmosphere of that wretched place.

“Thank the gods… If I had to peek into one more torture chamber full of flayed whores and rent colts – that place was horrible” Shimmer said in between dry heaves.

Cash hadn’t much usefully information either, though he did seem to have learned things… things that could not be unlearned: “I found this place where flayed pony bodies were stacked up several yards – I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep again…”

“Oh please, you didn’t look deep enough. I looked around the lower levels… I found a place where I think reality was broken – had to put up my shaping defences. Couldn’t make sense of anything there… it was pure madness” Sullen Hoof despaired, looking as if he was having difficulties standing up straight – having evidently been shaken both spiritually and physically from his experience.

Sunrise apologized that she hadn’t been able to search much at all: “I was roped into a discussion about how to best destroy the Realm. Some of the faceless there wanted to develop some advanced disguise charms and impersonate the Empress, others said that they had been conducting false flag operations on the blessed isle, as well as assassinating spirits and lesser gods there in order to leave the essence flow of the isle unprotected for later geomantic strikes…”

“Interesting – if we ever need to do diplomatic dealings with the realm we can use that information” Cash figured, eager to think of things more pleasant that what he had seen inside quad house.

Tita had not come out… likely maintaining her cover inside the place as a still loyal agent of the Arbiter. This left Speaker as the only pony who had not spoken up – something Shimmer noticed: “What did you find?”

Looking around in the ground, Speaker wasn’t entirely sure how to explain it. There had only been a few trusted exalts who had even known of the idea of the End Time Relay – and all involved had sworn to destroy all records of it… who had broken that oath? There weren’t any other way that a deathlord could have learned of it.

“Speaker, hello? What did you find?” Cash inquired, his charms telling him that Speaker had learned something useful.

Looking at his peers, Speaker took and deep breath and sighed even deeper: “First off, I know where Chung Onyx is – but I also learned something far worse… something even more important, but I won’t speak of it until we’ve rescued Onyx and returned to Sunhill”

The circle needed little convincing – Speaker rarely spoke in such a dire tone. Leaving the shed and returning to the Street of Swords, the circle came across several work crews that were dismantling the steel wall covers of the buildings in the district. In a few places where all the walls were gone, leaving only the steel supports that held up the roof, other work crews of ghost slaves, overseers and architects were starting to lay brickwork.

“Ah, I see they’ve started on my beautification project already, lovely” Cash noted.

Sending a sorcerous message to the Bodhisattva about the whereabouts of Chung Onux, in the Punishment Incentive Storage Section, the circle got a reply moments later in the form of a ghoulish messenger spirit with a hastily scribbled scroll that read: “I know where it is. Ocean of PISS is to the far south-east, in an island of stability within the wyld. I will have Onyx dropped off in Sunhill in a few days”

“Well that’s nice to hear – does that mean we can go back to creation now?” Shimmer wondered out loud, looking hopeful.

Sullen Hoof gestured to speak: “Leave without me – I have a few things I need to check up on. I’ll get back on my own in a few days”

Speaker gave Sully a worried look, but nodded: “Ok, just be careful – we’ll have more than enough to see to without having to rescue you as well”

With that said Sullen Hoof leapt high into the air, disappearing among the rooftops. The circle in turn had Han retrieved, which seemed little worse for wear, though it was rather uneasy until Cash used a charm to calm it. Flying back east was quick, the circle getting back to Sunhill by dawn the next day.

While Cash went to bed, having stayed up all night to get the circle home as quickly as possible, the rest of the circle was well rested enough to talk about the scary thing Speaker had been unwilling to discuss back in Stygia.

In one of the Sunhill manse meeting rooms Speaker requested Shimmer to use her charms to see if anyone was listening in or observing them.

After a moment of intense concentration and essence use, Shimmer exhaled slowly: “It’s just the three of us”

“Ok, listen closely. During the primordial was, at a point where things looked bleak, I and a small group of other twilight caste solars came up with an idea for an… option, a final act of defiance. We called it Option Zero – the destruction of all of Creation, to deny it to the primordials, should we lose the war. Down in quad house, after I found the reference to Chung Onyx, I also found a reference to one of the key components to Option Zero, one of the really bad ones” Speaker explained with a heavy heart.

Sunrise was quick to cut to the chase: “So this End Time Relay, what does it do, and how do we stop it?”

“To explain that I will need to explain part of how the sun works how it was once used” Speaker began, explaining that the Daystar as the sun was once known, is not simply a bright like that travels across the sky: “It is piloted – originally by Celestia herself, but that was later delegated to a loyal and trusted god. Among those controls is a device called the Eschaton Key. It has been used once, and only once, in the past”

Sunrise nodded: “And this key does what?”

“Simple: It flares the sun, increasing its output of light and heat to the point that it burns away everything – think all of Creation reduced to lifeless cinders. The End Time Relay is supposed to be a remote trigger for the key – but it was never built. It was only ever theoretical” Speaker explained, feeling distinctly uneasy with divulging the information.

Both Shimmer and Sunrise agreed that such an event sounded really bad – though Shimmer was curious as to one point: “You said it was used once?”

“I recall it was either during or before the primordial war – A vain primordial, or maybe it was a powerful changeling, created a mock copy of Creation within the wyld. During Calibration Celestia flew the Daystar into the wyld, to this false Creation, and turned the Eschaton key. The wyld consumed the ashes of that place, leaving no trace of it” Speaker explained, not really feeling well about having to explain this to others. Him and the other co-designers of the End Time Relay had all sworn to take the secret of the Relay with them to the grave – this was not something meant for others to know of.

The three ponies did not speak for a moment, the very idea of a sickly knock-off of Creation being too alien for them to truly envision. After this little pause Sunrise summarized: “So, the Arbiter is building this relay?”

“Yes, and he’s using Deep Rot to create the designs somehow. I don’t know how far along he is in that process – but he must be stopped” Speaker insisted.
Nodding in agreement, Shimmer noted that they would need some more concrete information to go on: “We should ask the Bodhisattva. He told us of Deep Rot earlier – maybe he knows something about the relay?”

Speaker wasn’t sure if the Bodhisattva knew of the relay, but it was definitely a sound idea to ask him either way: “Also, ask him if he has any idea how the Arbiter might have learned of the relay. The only written record of it was in my… oh…”

“What? The only written record of the relay was where?” Shimmer inquired, suddenly very curious about Speaker’s apparent epiphany.

With an expression not unlike a foal that had just shit on the floor, Speaker found himself feeling really stupid: “Ok, Shimmer, do you remember my tomb – the really well hidden one? I had originally made that with an archive of all the magitechnicaly theories and discoveries related to arcane science that I had learned of during my thousands of years as a Solar?”

“Ya, on stone tablets? But they were all destroyed, weren’t they? You think the Arbiter did that? Are you sure that nobody else could have made records of the relay?” Shimmer said, trying to furious make sense of it all.

Sitting down on a chair and pondering furiously, Speaker noted: “There were no signs of the tomb having been broken into – and I swore everyone, including myself, to magical oaths that we would never commit the thing to writing”

Sunrise cleared her throat - loudly, making Speaker and Shimmer look at her: “I believe the more salient question is what exactly a deathlord is – because it sounds to me like it was your prior incarnation’s own ghost that destroyed those tablets – and such a being wouldn’t need a written record of the relay’s design”

Speaker and Shimmer both fell silent upon this the proposal of that line of events. What would the implications of this be? This was definitely something the Bodhisattva needed to help them with.

A message was sent post haste, informing the deathknight that the circle was now targeting Deep Rot since it was involved in designing a relay device that could lead to the destruction of Creation – plus inquiries were made on the true nature and origins of the deathlords, since it was now suspected that Speaker’s old ghost might be involved.

The three received a reply a few hours later. The Bodhisattva first of all expressed that he was pleased that the circle finally recognized the threat that Deep Rot represented, though he didn’t know anything about any apocalypse relay or anything – but it didn’t surprise me either. Regarding the nature of the deathlords then it was only known in the underworld that they were wrought of powerful ghosts from the first age who had been empowered by the neverborn, and that the Mask of Winters and the Walker in Darkness were the two last deathlords to be ‘made’. One popular theory was apparently that the Deathlords were ghosts that had leapt into the mouth of oblivion and returned from it, blessed by the neverborn.

Later in the day, when Cash woke up he too was briefed on the situation: “Ok, but doesn’t this also mean that we’ll have to take out the Arbiter himself? If he is connected to Speaker’s old ghost, then he would still know of the relay and be able to start up a new Deep Rot to design it”
The circle could not argue against that logic.

“This makes it all the more important to keep Sunhill and Chung Do protected. We cannot let ourselves be distracted by raids and attacks here if we’re to battle the Arbiter in the underworld” Speaker noted, not wanting to leave their flanks exposed while gone.

Cash agreed, saying that he would fly to Chung Do once Chung Onyx was delivered to them and then go talk to the Chung nobles: “…to remind them that they owe their lord fealty and should send troops to help protect their capital”

“You do that. The rest of us will stay here and shore up Sunhill’s defences. We won’t have to turn this place in Lookshy, but it should be able to ward off raids and other mortal pony attacks” Speaker noted, his mind already racing on how to achieve this in the shortest order possible.
The next morning Speaker resumed his training of the Sunhill militia. He wasn’t fully comfortable calling it an army just yet – the poor souls could barely even march in line. Still, the charms he already knew about manipulating large numbers of ponies at once, be it to instill panic or fearlessness, meant that he understood the basics of how to communicate thought-based essence patterns to large numbers of ponies at once in a martial context. With a little bit of inspiration from his educational charms, and several days of trial and error, Speaker ultimately discerned the secret that had allowed Solars in the first age to raise armies of elite troops in but weeks. Back then this military training charm was known as the Tiger Warrior training technique, for dawn caste solars were back then known as the bronze tigers, for at the dawn of pony civilization tigers were the strongest beasts known to pony-kind.

The recollection that tigers had once been held in such esteem amused Speaker, which only added to his good mood as he beheld the initial results of the use of his tiger warrior training of the Sunhill Militia: They were actually marching properly… all of them, and were obeying his commands properly and in time. Sure, they weren’t able to handle much beyond the most rudimentary of formations, but for now they were at least no longer a ragtag mix of civilian and mercenary bandits – and this made Speaker very happy.

With the basics covered, the question of unit specialization became an issue. Speaker advocated for a two to one ratio of archers to spear-armed infantry, while Shimmer wanted a more diversified force that also included sling-armed ponies and light skirmishers armed with throwing spears and hoof-blades for close combat.

“We’re making a defence force – not an army meant for conquest. That kind of mixed arms forces are for offensive uses” Speaker argued, basing his logic on centuries old 7th legion military doctrine.

Shimmer groaned, working against her lunar impulse to simple obey her Solar mate: “Perhaps –but skirmishers are far better at actually repelling raiders who get into the city. The kind of force you’re suggesting would be good for helming city walls and guarding the gates – my forces would allow us to be flexible, plus they could be used for patrols outside the city as well”

“That… is actually a good point, but tiger warrior training only covers basic military skills like armed close combat and archery in formations. I won’t be able to teach skirmishing techniques until I figure out a more advanced training charm. I know there is one, just like the advanced educational charm I know, but right now it eludes me” Speaker noted, feeling just a tinge of annoyance that there were so many things he recalled from the first age that he wasn’t able to do yet.

Shimmer was about to say something to the effect of suggesting to train skirmishers the regular old mortal way, when Cash came knocking on the room to their quarters within the Sunhill manse: “Come quickly, Onyx has arrived, but he’s trapped in some kind of crystal!”

As Speaker and Shimmer followed Cash, they were led to the plaza at the Sunhill manse’s southern entrance. A large crowd had gathered, and in the middle stood a large pony-shaped figure that could only be the Bodhisattva, cloaked in roughly sewn-together hides. Next to the Bodhisattva, on the ground, laid a large semi-transparent crystal. The crystal was of a pale sickly-green color, but was transparent enough that it was clear to see that a pony was frozen inside of it… also the crystal stunk of ammonia, as if it had been bathed in piss.

“Ah, there you are. I have brought you your former circlemate’s younger brother – though how to release him is beyod my ken” the deathknight stated, many of the ponies in the crowd shying away simply due to the unearthly and disturbing sound of the Bodhisattva’s deathly voice.

Cash politely urged the ponies around to make way as Speaker, Shimmer and the Bodhisattva moved the crystal into an empty warehouse. Out of the sunlight, the deathknight equally put away the hide-cloak, stuffing it into the empty spaces within his armor – him apparently being able to manipulate his own ghost-flesh to make room for such.

Examining the pony-sized crystal in essence sight, Speaker found himself perplexed: “This crystal is unlike anything I have ever seen… it’s not organic, or mineral in nature. I have no idea what this is”

“Moot point – my charms still work on it” Shimmer said, using her shapeshifting essence to alter the nature of the crystal, making it pliable like moist clay. Thus, Speaker and Shimmer carefully scooped the now semi-fluid crystal away from Chung Onyx, slowly freeing up the adolescent colt.

Once free of the crystal Chung Onyx suddenly convulsed, coughing up foul-smelling fluids before he also regained his consciousness. At first Onyx didn’t know where he was, but he quickly recognized Speaker and Shimmer – though the second he saw the Bodhisattva the young colt simply shrieked, vomited and fainted… all roughly at once.

A bit of bathing, some rest and recovery, and a good meal later Onyx was sent off with Cash to the Chung lands to secure Chung Do a proper garrison. Cash assured the rest of the circle that whatever garrison commanders were sent to the city would be sworn to protect the city and their Daimyo.

This left Sunrise, Speaker and Shimmer to twiddle their hooves. Indeed, there wasn’t much in Sunhill at the moment that required their attention: A steady stream of merchants from Great Forks and beyond had been arriving via the canals leading down to the yellow river for months now, word having spread of the miracle healer of Nexus having settled at the now Sunhill back during the construction of the Sunhill manse. Exports including high quality carpentry products and would-be medical students offering payment for their training, as well as trade in rare medical herbs from the forests around Sunhill, were providing the burgeoning city with good income.

One thing the three exalts did do was talk to the Bodhisattva about the nature of the deathlords before the Bodhisattva left.

In a nice apartment building that Cash had marked for future use as embassies and ambassadorial residences, well away from any source of sunlight, the Bodhisattva explained that as far as he knew then the deathlords had always existed: “It is well known that they’re ghosts – but they’ve been around for as long as anyone can remember. To my knowledge there are no records of a time when they weren’t around”

“What about the information on the relay? Any idea how the arbiter learned about it?” Speaker asked with a notable sense of urgency.

The ghost-fleshed deathknight shrugged apologetically: “You said yourself that you weren’t the only Solar who knew of the thing – and it is common practice among the deathlords to capture the ghosts of ponies of interest, then ripping their minds apart for any knowledge they seek. Maybe your last incarnation left a ghost behind, maybe someone else did…”

“Maybe the Arbiter is Speaker’s old ghost?” Shimmer suggested, the tone of her voice clearly showing that she wasn’t exactly happy about the notion, but at the same time it was clear that it probably wasn’t impossible…

Speaker was about to object to Shimmer’s suggestion when the Bodhisattva cut him off: “The deathlords are not mere ordinary ghosts of great power. There are plenty of ancient ghosts in the underworld, a few even dating back to the first age, but the deathlords are unique – gifted and blessed by the neverborn… and from what I have seen of how you handle yourselves, then I cannot imagine Speaker, in any form, submitting to the neverborn and trying to destroy creation”

Nodding, Speaker added: “A skilled necromancer can fully control and dominate a ghost, that much I remember from the first age. I can’t imagine the deathlords not being skilled in such dark arts – so the idea of the arbiter having mind-ripped this from a solar ghost… I don’t like the thought of it, but I find it far more plausible than your idea Shimmer”

Shimmer smiled: “You’re probably right – there are a lot of things I can imagine you doing, but trying to destroy creation is not one of them”
The four exalts discussed things a bit more, the Bodhisattva mapping out the location of Deep Rot before leaving. Apparently he was planning an expedition to the wyld, seeking a first age war manse and weapon stockpile, so he wouldn’t be around for the next several months.
With the Bodhisattva off, Speaker, Sunrise and Shimmer split up to work on separate projects.

To further bolster Sunhill’s defences Shimmer and Sunrise spent the time waiting for Cash’s return touring the local spirit courts. They might not have the ability to sanctify oaths like Cash, but were none the less able to negotiate a new addition into their deal with the local forest gods: In exchange for elementals being made available to Sunhill’s defences in times of need Sunrise and Shimmer, together with the forest gods, agreed on set yearly dates for the festival in honor of the forest gods, including the specific rites and sacrifices that would please the gods the most, such as milk poured on the roots of wooden altars wrought of specially shaped trees, or gold-flecked honey offered in uniquely painted clay bowls.

Speaker spent his time figuring out the advanced military training charm, ultimately feeling stupid for not having figured out its elegant simplicity and arcane subtlety earlier, though he didn’t complain as now he could train the Sunhill light skirmishers up to properly match Shimmer’s suggestion – and do so in record speed, though he only managed to squeeze in a single such profound lesson in the martial elegance, strategic importance and tactical uses of slings to the ponies chosen to become skirmishers before Cash returned, signaling that it was time for the next part in their plan to take on the Arbiter and Deep Rot.

“Has Sully returned yet?” Cash inquired, while directing the supplies getting loaded up on Han around.

Shimmer shook her head, her purple dreadlocked mane flipping around vigorously: “It’s been almost two weeks… I’ve sent him magical messages”

“We really need to get everyone in the circle initiated into sorcery – or get us some other means of long range communication” Speaker mused, annoyed of the fact that everyone in the circle could already be initiated thusly… though he really didn’t want to initiate into Shimmer’s Silurian style of sorcery, recalling a preference for Devonian style, though he wasn’t entirely sure why or what the exact differences were between the two.

Cash recalled that he had seen a few messenger baubles on sale in Nexus: “But they have a very limited range…”

“Moot point – we’re going scouting, right now. We have no idea how far along the Arbiter is with his designs for the relay. We’re not coming back here until we know this. Shimmer, send a message to Sully about where we’re going and tell him that he can try to meet us there, otherwise just keep trying to get back here” Speaker huridly stated. Now that the time was nigh he didn’t want to waste a single moment, knowing that the fate of creation depended on this recon mission.