The Old World: Shadows

Forest Thorn strode quietly through the woods. He was a solidly built earth pony, with grey fur and green eyes and mane. His tail was green as well. Around him, the rich forest teemed with life. Mice skittered this way and that, a few hedgehogs crossed his path, and birds sang in the treetops. However, all these things were not the reason Forest was here. He stopped, and examined the large tracks in the muddy ground ahead. It was large, enough space for him to fit all four hooves inside, and had three clawed fingers stretching out front and one smaller one in the back. Forest grinned. After a few days of searching, he found the trail. A far ways off from the provided location. No matter. The trail had been found, and it was only a matter of time before he encountered the creature

He broke into a trot, following the large tracks. His harness rubbed uncomfortably on his body. Today was hot, and his fur was matted with sweat. He wiped his forehead with his foreleg, brushing his mane out of his eyes. He shook his head. He was no stranger to discomfort, he having spent weeks in the wilderness on some missions. His being uncomfortable came with the job.

Forest looked skyward. The sun was halfway between the horizon and the middle of the sky. Must be about four o’ clock. Plenty of time, these tracks are getting fresher. As he took in his surroundings, he noticed that the beast was leaving behind more than just tracks. The trees had long claw marks above Forest’s head, and the plants around the footprints were heavily trampled upon. Forest quickened his pace. Not long now.

Eventually the tracks led to a steep cliff-face. The beast did not look to have veered off its course, and the rocks looked to have new scratches in them. Forest stopped, and looked up. The cliff was about thirty feet high, and had some noticeable cracks, ledges and crannies suitable for hoofholds. He unslung his pack. Rummaging around, he found his grappling hook and rope, and retrieved them. Tying the rope to the eye of the grapple, he swung it round and around, and let it go. The grapple latched onto a thick tree branch atop the cliff. Testing his weight, Forest clung to the rope and dangled a few inches off the ground. Since the rope seemed to hold, he dropped down, donned his backpack, and started up the cliff.

Climbing is not an easy task for a pony. Races with fingers and feet had it easy enough, but hooves are unwieldy while vertically moving. Forest struggled to find purchase. Finding a suitable crag, he jammed his hoof in, and pushed himself up. He grasped the rope higher with his forehooves, and felt around for a second hole to put his hoof. “Three in, one out, three in, one out,” he said aloud, remembering the golden rule for climbing. Repeating the process as he went, Forest slowly scaled the rocky bluff.

Reaching the top, Forest grabbed the branch he threw the grappling hook on, and hoisted himself up. He slung his hind leg over the ledge, and rolled over, completing his climb. He got up, and retrieved his grapple. After coiling the rope and returning it to its place in his pack, he searched around for the trail again. The ground here was firmer and rockier than down below, so it took a few minutes, but he found the trail again. Forest set off in a westward fashion, following his quarry.

As night began to fall, Forest happened upon a large cave. The tracks ended here, so he assumed the cave was the beast’s lair. Not only were the signs clear, but he could sense it. The presence of predators has always made his kind uneasy, and now he felt that a great danger was near. Forest took in a shaky breath, exhaled, and unslung his pack. Forest opened the top, and rummaged around. He took out some smaller lengths of rope, and four squares of thick cloth. He tied these to the bottom of his hooves. Testing his makeshift mufflers, he strode across a nearby rocky surface. The usual *clip* *clop* of hooves on stone were replaced with a much quieter *pff* *pff*. Forest checked his hoofblade. The retractable double-edged blade was attached to the right foreleg’s bracer. Nervous, he unsheathed it with a flick of his hoof, and the blade shot out with an audible *shink*. About two and a half feet long, it was shorter than the swords usable by griffons and minotaurs and the like, but its design was hoof-compatible. He retracted it with another flick of the hoof, took a deep, shaky breath, and plunged into the cave.

The air is slightly cooler here. Forest slowly walked deeper into darkness. He paused, allowing his eyes to adjust. There seemed to be a soft, blue light emanating from further in. Curious, but cautious, Forest hugged the cold, rough stone wall and crept closer. *pff* *pff* *pff* *splonk* Forest froze, and the noise echoed throughout the cavern. After a few seconds of what seemed to him like a deafening chorus of stepping in puddles, the cave grew quiet again. Skirting around the puddle, Forest moved on. The light was getting closer, and he could see more clearly his surroundings. The walls were coated in ancient, grey grime, scored with large claw slashes. Within these marks he could see the blue-grey stone walls.

As he got closer to the light, he could make out what was causing it. The object was a rock roughly the size of a dinner table, and stood about five feet tall. It sat below a hole in the ceiling, with moonlight shining through. It hit the large stone, and was reflected by what looked like millions of tiny diamonds beset upon it.

Forest looked on in awe, mesmerized by the enchanting light. So beautiful. He reached his hoof out to touch it.
*pff*

It was terribly cold. After a second, Forest could feel it through the mufflers on his hoof. It penetrated his hoof’s keratin and slowly reached up his leg to his knees. Forest shuddered, and pulled away. His forehoof was numb. He shook it, trying to regain some feeling. After vigorously shaking, some semblance of feeling returned, and he moved on.

The room the stone was in had four openings. One was the passageway leading up to the surface, and three others were placed at ninety degree angles from each other. Of all the choices, turning left smelled the worst, so that’s where he went. The light from the cold stone room gradually faded as he progressed down the passageway. Just before the light left completely and plunged him into darkness, his hooves stopped impacting hard rock and instead met what felt like dry bracken. *crunch* *crunch* *crunch* This must be the beast’s nest!
As he slowly continued on, he could hear soft snoring. I was told the creature was a huge animal, not something this small. Nevertheless, he knew he was close, so he kicked hard off his forelegs, rising to a bipedal stance. He extended his blade, eliciting the quiet sound of steel slithering against leather. At the noise, a pair of small, yellow eyes opened. It screeched.

Suddenly, many more eyes opened up, all yellow with reptilian pupils. The screeching grew tenfold in intensity, and Forest flattened his ears and shook his head. This must be a nest of its young! Forest knew this was not good. Here he was, in a dead-end cave, and he just upset a nest of his quarry’s offspring. Since he now knew his target was a protective mother, he grimaced as he thought of the fight ahead.
The gravity of the situation sank in all at once, and Forest’s irises shrank. He quickly retracted his blade, dropped down to all fours, and broke into a gallop, heading for the surface. He heard a loud, deep roar coming from somewhere in the cave, overpowering the shrill shrieks of the younglings. Shit! Shit! Fucking Shit! Forest frantically increased his speed to a sprint. One of his mufflers fell off his hoof. *pff pff clip pff* *pff pff clip pff* *pff pff clip pff*

As he reached the cold rock room, he heard thundering pawsteps coming from the passageway on his left. He immediately turned right, scrambling for purchase as he started sprinting towards the cave entrance.

He burst out of the mouth of the cave, and thinking quickly, turned tail and scrambled up the steep, dirt hill next to the cave, and positioned himself above the entrance. He took some breaths to calm himself, and he shook a little from the adrenalin rush. Still on all fours, he extended his blade and waited for the beast.

Forest did not have to wait long. After about three seconds the creature came barreling out of the cave. Forest’s eyes widened. The creature had the head of a predatory bird and the body of a bear. The white feathers on its head merged with the brown, shaggy fur on the creature’s torso, but even through all that thick hair he saw the muscles ripple underneath its skin. It had a black, curved beak, and yellow reptilian eyes. On each of its four massive paws, three long black claws protruded about half a foot each. Standing about nine feet tall on all fours, it was an owlbear.

Forest uttered a quiet prayer for protection, and sprang up and out, holding his hoofblade pointed down towards the beast. Hearing the scree of rocks from Forest’s leap, the beast turned around, looked up, and sidestepped. Forest raised his weapon as to not blunt it on the hard stone floor, and landed with a clumsy tuck-and-roll. He again rose to a bipedal stance and held his blade in a low ready position, trying to keep his fear hidden.

The owlbear was not deceived. Its angry eyes grew more sedate, and it almost had a look of smugness plastered on its face as it circled Forest. He kept his front facing the owlbear, and while his fight-or-flight response was screaming at him to flee, he steeled himself and held his ground.

The beast casually snapped off a large tree branch with its powerful beak, and hurled it at Forest. He tried to dodge, but the tree limb hit Forest hard regardless, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying. As he hit the ground, still under the branch, the owlbear lumbered up to him to deliver the final blow. Luckily, Forest’s weapon was still extended, and when the owlbear lunged to bite him, he thrust his blade up in the path of the beast.

It howled in pain as it impaled itself on Forest’s blade, shaking the woods around with its deep voice. Blood welled from a new wound on the beast’s shoulder. Its eyes grew angry, and it lunged again. This time Forest used his raw Earth Pony strength, and delivered a powerful buck to the creature’s chest. Despite its large size, the owlbear was temporarily repelled, and an audible *crack!* could be heard as some ribs were broken.

Forest kicked the branch off, retreated a few steps, and rose again to a bipedal stance. His chest was bruised, and he could see it through his grey fur. He winced, and looked at his adversary. The animal was clawing the ground, leaving deep gashes in the rock. It charged again, its eyes full of rage. Forest waited until the last second, then spun to the side and slashed his hoofblade out. It sliced through the tangled fur into the creature’s flesh, leaving a shallow but painful wound from its shoulder to its haunches. It screamed in pain, and turned about. In its rage, it struggled to find purchase on the smooth rocky ground, its claws scrabbling.

Sensing the opportunity, Forest charged. He leapt, bringing his weapon down in a vicious punching stab. The blade embedded itself in the beast’s side, provoking a snarl of anger. It quickly lashed its paw out, clawing and bludgeoning Forest. Once again he found himself soaring through the air, and he landed with a loud *thud*, blood flowing freely from a trio of claw marks across the soft undersection of his barrel. The owlbear rose to its full height, though it winced from its new puncture wound. Even so, it seemed to grin with cruel intentions as it slowly advanced on the dazed Forest Thorn. He struggled to rise, and he faced the owlbear. It stopped, and then charged with great speed. Forest gritted his teeth, and waited, hoofblade still extended. Just as the beast was about to reach him, he sheathed his weapon and jumped aside, running in the opposite direction. The owlbear collided into a tree, stunning the creature. Forest galloped over to the other side of the clearing, realizing his hoofblade was not large enough to defeat his target. The beast recovered from its daze, and turned angrily to face Forest. It started pawing the ground again, preparing to charge. Forest, beginning to panic, looked this way and that for a suitable weapon. He spotted the tree limb that the owlbear threw at him early in the fight. Where the beast snapped it from the tree it was sharp and jagged. Forest galloped over and placed his hind hoof on the blunt side of the limb. He looked up, and found the owlbear charging again. Its yellow eyes saw only its own imminent triumph, and it licked its beak, anticipating its next meal.

The feral beast closed in. It was about fifteen feet away, still running at top speed. Forest quickly grabbed the front of the branch and lifted, rising to his fighting stance. He held the point facing the charging animal, his face grim. Time seemed to slow down, and he was keenly aware of his surroundings. The wind rustled the leaves around him, the trees swaying in the breeze. The owlbear chicks still squawked from within the cave, and he heard the distant calling of wolves. The mother owlbear ran itself through on his makeshift spear, and the force of impact jolted into Forest, knocking him aside. The beast still continued to run, screaming in a disturbingly high voice, until it crumpled into a heap of limbs and fur and blood on the ground, its dying howls echoing throughout the Everfree Forest. More than half the branch-spear was lodged deep in the owlbear’s chest.

Forest rose from the ground, wincing from his cuts and bruises. He walked over to the owlbear, now pitiful in its dying state. The creature’s pathetic howls, whines and whimpers tugged on Forest’s heartstrings, and he was unable harbor anger for the creature. It looked up at him with pain in its eyes, and whimpered again. It raised a paw weakly at him, but it fell. Its strength was failing. Forest saw it struggle to continue breathing, the long, thick tree branch sticking out of its chest and back. Blood swelled out, and pooled on the ground. It surrounded his forehooves, and soaked the cloth mufflers tied to them. The creature kept coughing up blood in its efforts to stay alive, ironically furthering its own death. Forest extended his hoofblade and climbed up to the beast’s neck. “Suffer no more, and cause no suffering,” he said, slicing its neck open. It looked at him, failing to understand as it gurgled on its own blood. Then its eyes glazed over, and its heart beat no more.

He got up, wiping his weapon on the beast’s fur. The squawks from the owlbear chicks still emanated from the cave entrance. He took off his mufflers, and inspected his wounds. Luckily, the gashes from the beast’s claw attacks were superficial, and would heal quickly, but the bruises hurt more. He pressed down on his chest, and winced. Hopefully, the bone isn’t bruised. Had he been a pegasus or unicorn, he would have surely broken many, if not all, of his ribs. He gave thanks for his race, and then turned his attention to the matter at hoof. What to do with the chicks?

Forest frowned. If they were too young, they would die of starvation if left on their own. If they were old enough to look after themselves, they would grow up to terrorize the countryside as their mother has. If he took them back to be trained as attack animals, their childhood lives would be full of pain and suffering instead of frolicking and happiness. He growled. Owlbears were supposed to inhabit lands far to the north. Why was this one here?

Regardless of where they came from, they couldn’t stay here. That left him few choices. Forest shook his head. He rose on two legs, and again extended his hoofblade. Entering the cave, he saw that the chicks had moved from the nest to the entrance tunnel. They screeched in confusion and fear when they saw not their mother return, but an earth pony. Forest quickly swung his blade, connecting with the front chick’s neck. The creature’s head was severed, and it rolled around on the floor. He brought his blade up in an uppercut formation, stabbing another through its skull. The other three realized what was going on, and tried to run away. They were not fast and were obviously newly hatched. Forest grimaced. He slew another, its dying screech echoing throughout the cave. If he didn’t kill them, they would kill countless ponies and cause much more grief. He slaughtered another, and approached the lone survivor. It ran into a corner, saw no way to go, and turned around. It looked up at him with pleading eyes, whining. Forest’s own eyes softened. “I’m sorry.” He swung the hoofblade in a horizontal slash, cleaving the youngling’s head in two. Blood sprayed on his face. He fell on all fours, turned around, and walked out of the cave. Bodies littered the floor, and blood stained the ground and walls.

Walking over to the mother’s corpse, he decided the head would make good proof of his kill. He hacked at the beast’s neck five times, and the head rolled away. He wiped his messy weapon once again on the creature’s fur, and retracted the blade. He picked up the head, and walked over to his backpack. It got kicked away in the battle, and was underneath a large fern. He emptied it out, wrapped the head in his mufflers, and shoved the package inside. He slung the pack over his back, picked up the grapple and rope, and set out. After repelling down the cliff face, he left the rope dangling and returned to town, ready to collect the bounty.