"Oh I just love that new plane smell!" A rather bubbly voice broke the silence that had previously filled the small hamlet. A silence that was understandable since it was the middle of the night and most reasonable things were asleep, which was a good thing since most of the inhabitants would have panicked at the sudden appearance of something that did not exist in this world mere moments ago.
Standing in the middle of the street as though she owned the place was a figure that would not look out of place in a kings court. Dressed in baggy purple and red clothes with frilled cuffs and collar, a hat with tails and bells, and pointy shoes was what one would describe as a jester. On her face was a white smiling mask, with a blue line leading from under each eye to the masks chin. Reaching into her left sleeve, the jester pulled out a small scroll, the jester opened it up before reading the words carefully. "Right, well, this is the right plane, finally, now all I have to do is find the damn thing and I'll have a mountain of gold. Yay!" She began to dance a little jig, but was caught off guard when someone, or rather pony, began to speak behind her.
"Hello there, welcome to ou . . ." Whatever the mare was going to say was suddenly interrupted by a sudden and violent case of death, a common symptom of people who suddenly have a dagger shoved into their head.
"Ahh!" The jester screamed, shocked.
". . . " The body fell, no longer able to stand.
"Ahh!" She screamed again. Seeming annoyed by the bodies lack of response.
". . . " The mares body laid in the dirt, a fly buzzing around it's bloody skull.
"Ahh!" The jester screamed, half heartedly watching as a pool of blood poured out of the knife wound. "Well your boring. Here I was trying to have a scream off and you decide it's a good time to die. How rude. I mean, come on!" She reached down and yanked her blade out of the corpses head, "Dying from this little flesh wound? Really?" She wiped the blade clean on the ponies corpse. "I hope the rest of your kind aren't as weak otherwise this is going to be really boring. And I hate that." She hoped a few steps back, and tilted her masked head, bells ringing slightly, and considered the body.
It was a mare, and had a white coat, now red in some places where the blood touched, with a powder blue mane and tail. The pony had wings and, if she were to take a guess, was in her young adult years. The pony wasn't very large, shorter than most of the ponies she had seen on other planes, but seemed large enough to carry a fair amount of stuff. On its flank was the image of two black horizontal lines. All in all, the corpse looked like it could be useful, if for nothing else than for a pack mule, er, pony.
"Well, I guess you get to repay your rudeness." The jester reached inside her right sleeve and rummaged around for a bit before withdrawing a bag full of black ashy powder. Taking a pinch and focusing a bit of black manna into it, she blew the magic infused powder at the corpse.
The moment the powder touched the Pegasus it began to twitch and moan, and after a few seconds the corpse managed to struggle to it's hooves. The blood flow also slowed to a stop as the dark magic in the corpses body took complete control. The zombie pony looked up at it's killer and creator's masked face and let out a little moan.
"Aww, aren't you a cute little zombie, yes you are!" The jester gushed over the reanimated corpse, hugging it. "I'm gonna call you Zia. Zia zombie. And I'm your boss, Jes. Think about it, Jes and Zia, goin on a quest to find the . . . the . . . hold on a minute." Letting go of the zombie, who seemed relived to be out of Jes's grip, Jes reached back into her left sleeve, and examined the scroll again. "The Alicorn Amulet? What kinda stupid name is that? Anyway, what do you say girl, want to help me find the thing?" Zia let out another moan, which Jes decided was a sound of confirmation. "That's the spirit!
Jes looked around her environment, not having properly studied the area she appeared in thanks to her little episode with her new pet zombie. "Man, this place sucks." From her place in the street Jes could see pretty much the entirety of the town, which seemed to consist entirely of uniform wood buildings, with one singular house at the far end.
Zia, remembering her past life, let out a moan to voice her displeasure with that statement.
"Yeah, I know Zia, blandsvill." Jes said, completely misinterpreting the zombies moan. "The lease they could do is use a little paint." The masked necromancer walked over to a house, "I mean look at this, it looks completely like every other house! Boring!" Spinning around in a little pirouette Jes turned to her zombie, her voice full of excitement. "I have a great idea Zia, lets paint these houses!
Zia gave a confused moan.
"Why red of course! I mean, that's the typical color of blood." Jes replied.
Another moan.
"We have to kill them for their blood."
Moan.
"Because paint is boring."
Moan.
". . . You're a mouthy little zombie pony, you know that?" Jes poked Zia's forehead, right above the hole made by her dagger. "Besides, I don't know why your complaining, once we're done you'll have plenty of friends to be a zombie with and I'll have a little undead army. Win-win!"
Zia used her slow zombie brain to mull over this, something about friends triggering something in her slowly rotting brain. Deciding that she liked the idea of other zombies, Zia gave a approving moan. Which sounded just like every other moan. But, hey, you can't blame a zombie for trying.
"That's the spirit! And besides, it's not like I'm going to kill all the inhabitants, just enough to paint the front of all these houses. So some will survive! Maybe." The mad jester shrugged noncommittally. "Anyway, lets get to work!"
Five hours later.
"Okay, so it took a tiny bit more ponies than I thought it would to paint it all red, but think of it this way, now you have lots and lots of undead friends!" Jes's bubbly voice was ill suited for her environment. The once quiet town was now full of the sounds of moaning zombie ponies, the bland houses now poorly painted red with the blood of the former inhabitants. "And, hey! One's even alive still. All in all I think we can call this a good night." The planeswalker pointed at the unconscious pink mare with a purple and blue mane lying in one of the few spots on the street that was blood and or gore free.
A round of moans and groans, with the occasional gurgle from a pony zombie with a slit throat, responded to her declaration.
Jes clapped her hands together in joy, "I knew you would all agree, and with this many zombies, getting that All Corn Amulet will be a cinch!"
Just then the sun suddenly rose, and all the zombies save Zia fell to the ground.
Jes looked around baffled. "Well that was unexpected." The jester slouched dejectedly, she was really looking forward to marching through the country side with an army of zombies. "Oh well," She straightened, "I guess that's what I get for using a cheaper spell on them. Lesson learned, don't use cheap necromancy on zombie army." She jotted that last bit down on the back of her mission scroll, using the feather from a nearby Pegasus corpse and some blood.
Zia looked around at all her fellow zombies dejectedly, now there was no one to divert the madness of her necromancer master from herself. Well, except for the mare at her feet, but she was asleep at the moment. Zia once again found herself in the unwanted position of being held close to her master by a single arm.
"Well Zia, it looks like it's just you and me against the world. There will be danger, adventure, romance, and tons of killing! Are you as excited as I am?"
Zia moaned, she prayed that she would soon fall like the others.
"Great!" Jes cheerfully exclaimed, clapping her hands together and letting the zombie fall to the ground. "Now lets get you all saddled up with my loot and we can begin the most exciting type of adventure ever: The Fetch Quest!"
Zia moaned.
"Well, it's exciting the way I do it."
