Equestria's Darkest Dungeons

An old rickety wagon was pulled down Canterlot’s mountain along a road revealing increasing disuse the further it ran drawn by two snow-white royal guards. The ponies who saw this paid it little mind such a thing was hardly uncommon these days and they had far more important things to worry about. Those few who were struck by a moment of whimsy might have guessed the carriage to be carrying an important dignitary or some newly appointed general instead of the four humans sitting in silence.

Celestia had promised the adventurers any tools or other supplies they might need before setting them off down the mountain, towards the small desolate town of Ponyville. As the carriage bumped and rattled, Pointel finally spoke up. “Do you think we’ll ever be going home?”

The carriage remained silent as the robber slowly looked into the dour and worried faces of her companions. That’s the only answer Pointel needed.

She sighed. This was going to be a long ride.

The carriage traveled through an increasingly overgrown roadway as it left the mountains and hills surrounding the capital and descended into the darkened valley no overcome by trees. Shapes danced through the woods as the tired guards increased their pace and the tension in the carriage steadily climbed. Things twisted or imagined danced by between the tall trunks as the adventures were pulled ever deeper into the darkness beneath the forest’s canopy. Finally the guards pulled up at the edge of a small village, next to a cottage overrun by nature's wrath.

“This is your stop,” One of the guardsponies spoke. “The castle should be just down the path,” he continued, gesturing to a nearby dirt road. “I wish you luck, brave souls.”

"We're going to need it," Galilee murmured adjusting her mask.

With a flurry of stomping hooves, the two guards fled back the way they had come without a word, leaving the four adventures surrounded by the tangible darkness of the moonless night. Quickly lighting a torch, Pointel waved to her comrades. “Shall we enter the cottage? It’s possible we can find supplies within.”

“Nay,” Reynauld responded, drawing his polished broadsword. “We have supplies enough already.”

“One can never have enough supplies,” Caspar replied, unsheathing his dirk and giving it a quick twirl. “I’d hate to die of food shortages, and when I do, it’ll be all your fault.” The party paused to stare at him, their gazes lingering until the rough man in a trench coat begin to fidget. “What? It was a joke!”

With a shake of his head, Reynauld beckoned the group forwards into the darkened woodlands that surrounded them. "Come, companions! Glory awaits!"

Through the endless maze of trees and mud they trecked along the memories of roads and trails long forgotten among the belligerent trees and scrubs. They slowed only for a bite of bread or to light new torches, never able to shake the feeling they were being watched, pursued, hunted, and mocked by things unseen in the silent forest. The length of time they spent following crisscrossing false paths and carrying hundreds of pounds of armor, supplies, and weaponry quickly became as lost as they were. Unable to continue without fear of collapse the four assembled a small crude camp on a spot they swore they had passed through before.

“Do you think she’ll keep her promise?” Caspar spoke, roasting what he believed to be a rabbit carcass over the fire. Seeing only questioning looks from his companions, he clarified “The overgrown horse that calls herself a Princess, I mean.”

“What? Are you worried about not getting your money?” Galilee chuckled, her mask resting beside her as she blew on a steaming piece of meat skewered by her knife. “She seemed desperate. I’m willing to bet she’ll cough up the gold.”

“She still has no reason to,” Caspar countered. “She can just banish us back to our own blighted little corner of existence without paying us a dime.” A look was shared among the greedier of the group, silently praying Caspar was wrong.

Reynauld looked over the group, preparing to chastise the burglar and looter for their greed, when he spotted something new in the foliage. Two green, glowing eyes watched them from behind a nearby tree and he became aware of a foul alien order beneath the scents of cooking meat. As he heard the sounds of movement through the previously silent woods around them he leapt to his feet sword in hand with a roar, “Ambush!”

Caspar and Pointel instantly sprung to their feet seeking shelter behind the armored knight, just in time to see a giant canine composed of a twisted assortment of wood burst from its hiding place, snarling in fury that it had been discovered. Galilee tried to rise, only to trip over her seat as she found herself stuck only inches from the beast’s splinter filled maw. Her breath caught and her eyes narrowed to pin pricks. So, this is how I die?

She was roused from her shock by a deafening boom in her right ear and the familiar scent of gunpowder, as Caspar fired his flintlock pistol from right beside her The attack succeeded in blowing a cavernous hole through the creature’s face, sending it sprawling back against a rock. "Get up!" Caspar ordered, gripping Galilee by the shoulder pulling her to her feet just in time to dodge a bite from the  snarling bastardization of beast and plant. “Persistent snot isn’t it.”

As Caspar and Galilee backed  away from the monster and Reynauld moved to finish it, Pointel noticed two more sets of eyes shining in the bushes nearby. "There's more of them!" She yelled, swinging her pickaxe down at one of the timberbeast as it sprang from its hiding place.

Her pick bit deep into the creatures wooden temple with a crack as it tore clear through the things head. The monster yelp and struggled to pull away from the weapon only to succeed in tearing its own head off. The wolf's glowing eyes sputtered like a candle in the wind before going out, its head collapsing into a pile of mulch. Pointel took a deep shuddering breath and allowed herself a smile as she reveled in her small victory. She was soon relieved of her reprieve by the musty odor of wet wood mixed with rotting flesh flooding her nostrils as two more beast tore out of the underbrush seeking to borrow some of her tender flesh.

Pointel tried desperately to dodge the attack and hissed in pain as one  of the abominations latched onto her forearm, easily tearing through her coat emitting a sound far too similar to the crunching of bones. Just as the second turned to strike again Reynauld darted forward, his longsword stabbing deep into the monster's flank. He effortlessly withdrew the weapon from the injured as the second  beast changed its target and charged at him, teeth bared.

Unphased, he swung his  blade in a wide cleaving arc which cut deep into the creature’s side sending wood chips pinging off his platemail as he brought his blade around for a second strike. His tempered iron smashed deeply into the creature’s neck, tearing through it with ease belying the strength of the wielder and leaving only a larger pile of rank firewood in the monster’s place.

"Dust thou began, and to dust thou returns." Reynauld chanted, drawing out a cloth to clean the thick mucus like sap from his blade. Nearby Galilee stabbed her knife through the eye of the first of the monstrosities to appear, which caused it too to fall to pieces. The group waited, their ears keen for any more sounds, they did indeed hear the sounds of movement in the brush around them, but it rapidly grew fainter and as one they let out a sigh of relief.

Caspar looked over to where Reynauld stood examining a new chip on his blade. “Well? Figure we could get some rest now."

Pointel shook her head. "Doubtful. Wolves tend hunt in packs, and those things are reminiscent enough of the beast, though far more aggressive. I’m certain more will be coming soon."

Caspar sighed, dejectedly reloading his weapon. "Very well. Let us move then, wolf chow is not a fate I’d prefer."

The four quickly doused the fire and relit their torches, allowing them a tiny bastion of light against the increasingly dense black of the forest. They found the remains of a road twisting through the woods, their eyes dancing about for monsters and terrors they knew lurked just outside of their vision. Just as they made it to a rather dense section of the forest, they noticed one of the trees had recently had something carved into its still bleeding bark.Unable to contain his curiosity, Caspar advanced towards the great oak and read its inscription.

His eyes widened as he backed away from the inscription, his hand flying to his mouth hidden behind his bandana as he nearly dropping the torch. "M-My God..." he whispered beginning to shake like a leaf.

"Caspar, what troubles thou?" he rested an armored hand on the trembling highwayman's shoulder, only to have his hand slapped away.

Caspar drew back and faced the crew, his eyes narrowed as he took fast panicky breaths. Reynauld’s hand slowly moved to rest on his sword hilt as Caspar backed up against the tree. Slowly, the former bandit’s breathing slowed and with a slow gulp he rasped, "Nothing. Nothing, lets keep moving."

Caspar walked forwards torch held high, taking the leading position, the other three remained where they stood. Two set of eyes drifted from the retreating form of Caspar to Reynauld, the knight shook his head and the others nodded, hustling to catch up with the retreating figure. Reynauld’s gaze drifted to the bleeding tree, only to find whatever message had been there was now gone. The knight’s expression was hidden behind his visor as he turned away and hustled to rejoin the group.

The path through the forest proved to be far more winding and convoluted than the rag tag group of adventures had anticipated. They had crossed rivers, chasms, and even fields of a strange blue flowering plants. And yet their goal was still not yet in sight.

They finally reached a welcome breach in the forest’s thick canopy, only to find the clearing already occupied by a creature feasting on a brutally mangled corpse. The fur around the creature’s face and claws was stained a muddy crimson with blood and a thick scorpion-esque tail twitched as the beast tore at the body.

Caspar motioned to the side, hoping that they might avoid the beast while it was distracted, only for Galilee to step on a fallen branch with a resounding crack..

The party fell silent while Caspar stood still, his hand hovering over his sheathed dagger. The beast sniffed, before turning its lion-like head to the side and locked its bloodshot eyes on the group of motionless unfortunates. Caspar swallowed hard, icy sweat trickling down his neck as the beast flapped its massive leathery wings.

The manticore was an imposing beast, its bloodstained teeth and red drool dripping from its murderous frown. It was a nightmare made flesh, a legend believed only to exist in storybooks, a true monstrosity eyeing up a potential meal. As it unleashed a terrible roar, the four quickly formed into their battle positions and readied themselves for combat.

Caspar wasted no time and lunged forwards with his shining dirk, slicing a bleeding wound into the manticore’s paw. Or at least, that had been the plan, the monster’s flesh proved to be remarkably tough. The beast roared and  slashed at the roguish thug with its claws as a small trickle of blood seeped from its wound. Caspar found himself being lifted off his feet by the blow and was sent sprawling back. With a wheeze, he slowly returned to his feet as Galilee ready one of her ceramic bomb.

The grapefruit-sized projectile sailed through the air, smashing into the manticore's face, splashing the putrid green slime over the monster. The beast roared as its nose were singed by the noxious fumes, and the fur on its face began to melt away. Reynauld recoiled as he saw a charred bit of skin drop from the beast's forehead, slowly rotting away before his eyes. "Aye, Galilee," He spoke, drawing his broadsword once more. "What's in these wretch'd capsules?"The doctor simply cackled and made a zipping motion over her mask.

Pointel reached into her coat, withdrawing a fist full of small darts, their tips coated in a sinister sheen. She smiled wickedly, tossing the darts at the manticore. Many of the darts bounced harmlessly off the legend’s hide, but one found purchase with a direct hit to the eye. The beast wailed and hissed as it lunged forwards, seeking to return the poisonous favor to the cocky women. Its stabbing barb instead found a home in Reynauld's chest. The crusader coughed up blood as it withdrew its tail and smashed the staggered knight aside. He lay on the ground dazed, reeling, about to break...

Resolutely, the injured crusader rose to his feet, reaching behind his back he raised his sacred banner to the air with a ferocious cry. A holy glow surrounding him as his stomach stitched itself back together, leaving only the smallest scar to remember the manticore’s dastardly attack.

Pointel screamed as she charged forwards, readying her pickaxe behind her head. She drew it back when she was close enough to the beast and slammed it forwards, pushing the poison-tipped dart deeper into the manticore's red cornea. And with a final whimper, it was all over.

The poison dart ripped the manticore's brain and shut down its body with a series of slow painful jerks. The beast unceremoniously fell to the ground, landing right at Pointel's feet. "Well, looks like that's that," she spoke, wiping the blood off of her pickaxe. "Now to see—" she paused when she noticed what was behind the manticore.

A corpse, nearly unrecognizable, turned to macabre confetti. Pointel stared at the mangled corpse, only a single pink hoof intact. The rest of the body had been shredded by the razor claws of the once fearsome manticore, if it hadn’t been devoured already. The grave robber turned away from the gruesome sight, her fellow adventurers hurrying forwards. “Let’s move,” she snorted. “Way this day’s been going we’re likely to be attacked by something worse”

Reynauld led the way through the forest's winding path, re-lighting their rapidly dwindling supply of torches when needed as they finally found themselves at what seemed like the path’s end. Dangling over the breadth of one of the steepest canyons any of them had ever seen was a long, rickety bridge with a decrepit building at the other end. The moon finally showed itself as the clouds parted, revealing moss creeping along the castle's walls and trees growing out of the sides.

"What? This is it?" Caspar sneered. "This is the Castle of the Two Sisters? I feel like I’ve been tricked."