Brütal Legend: Pony Rock, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Metal

It was no use, later on, for Eddie Riggs, the Ultimate Roadie, to try and remember exactly what it was like passing through that void. He couldn’t even truly remember existing in there, let alone experiencing the actual journey. He could vaguely recall that there was the smell of basil, and the distinct flippy feeling in his gut that came when he was getting used to having wings and fell from too high, and the completely new sensation he got when he fell up (there was no other word for it; he hadn’t levitated up or flown up, he had fuckingfallen up), but that was the extent of it.

Well, that, and a feeling of mind-numbing terror due to the fact that he felt a million-and-three inhuman eyes upon him, watching him, scrutinizing him as he had traversed the space that belonged to the eyes’ owner(s(es)), but that had been it.

That is, until Eddie felt like Eddie again, and that odd, new sensation of falling up turned into the completely familiar sensation of falling down, and he found himself looking at what appeared to be a forest floor rushing up to meet his—

THUD.

“Ow.”

 —face.

Eddie Riggs took the opportunity to just lay there and bleed awhile. The fall hadn’t really hurt him; while it was next to impossible for him to access his demonic powers when not in the heat of battle, there were enough of them latently active to kick up his body’s natural healing process a notch, and so a broken nose was easily fixable.

‘Still hurts like a sumbitch, though…’

At least he hadn’t landed on his back; poor Clemmy. She was so going to need a good old-fashioned tuning to make up for all the punishment she had gone through recently.

Resolving to do just that as soon as the opportunity afforded itself, he idly cast his eyes about, searching his surroundings; yep, forest. Trees everywhere, bushes and crap, sounds from whatever unsavory predators were stalking whatever…

Eddie quietly groaned. And of course, he was stuck in a forest full of large animals—

An enormous snarl, some distance away but from an animal big enough for it to still be loud, pierced the air.

— make that large, dangerous, and pissed off animals, and that stupid snake-thing still had his fucking axe!

Eddie Riggs cast an extraordinarily annoyed look over his shoulder at the swirling vortex, just in time to see the shiny orichalcum of his beloved weapon flip end over end through the empty not-space, landing blade-first into the hard-packed dirt not an inch away from his still-throbbing nose as the hole closed, leaving no trace.

He looked at his reflection.

His reflection stared back.

“…okay,” he muttered. “That was a close one.”

Grunting, he pushed himself up off the ground, dusting himself off. Healing factor or no, Eddie knew that he was going to be hella sore in the morning, no mistake about it.

‘Of course,’ he thought to himself, ‘I have to live to morning, first.’

In reality, it likely wouldn’t be a problem. As long as he had Clementine and the Separator, a sharp edge and the magic of Metal, he’d be just fine…

The collective howl of a wolfpack rang through the air, and he set his jaw. Pulling the battle-axe from the earth, he ran an absent thumb over the edge, eyes darting around. It was better safe than sorry; the wise thing to do would be find some sort of shelter. What little sky he could see seemed to be shifting toward the late afternoon; that meant there was only a limited time to locate a hidey-hole, since the thickness of the canopy here would block the—

Again, a bone-chilling set of howls, sounding closer than before. Eddie nodded to himself. Time to go.

He had just begun to hack through the nearest underbrush when he heard the howling again, even closer…but underneath it…

‘Was that…a kid?’

Listening intently, the half-demon stayed quiet, hoping to catch it again…

Ah-wooooooo!

And right below that, the sound of…no, not one kid screaming…a few kids!

Without a second thought, Eddie Riggs spun around and dashed off in the direction of the shrieks. ‘Ain’t no way in hell I’m going to let some poor kid get eaten!’

Luckily, he didn’t need to look far; another clearing, this one with a small hill in the middle, a small cavern in its side, and surrounding it, snarling and snapping, were wolves.

Big wolves.

Big wolves…made out of branches?

It is a credit to Eddie Riggs’ mental adaptability that he saw this and didn’t even break stride; granted, he had seen his share of weird in the past few months, which probably helped, but even then, the oddness to which he was being subjected to would give even the most metal of metalheads pause.

All that went out the window when Eddie heard a trio of small, high-pitched voices screaming in abject terror from the grassy hillock’s innards.

Without a second thought, he launched himself into the air, axe raised high, straight at the wolf closest to the hole. This particular specimen was scrabbling around the edges, desperately trying to enlarge the hole to fit its monstrous head into, and so did not see the newcomer to the fray.

But it heard him, and he was the last thing it would hear.

“DECAPITATIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!”

The Separator slammed into the wood-wolf’s neck, cleaving through branches, splintering where it didn’t cut, crushing what remained, and an outpouring of golden sap sprayed everywhere as the head and body fell in two pieces.

Silence filled the clearing as the small voices fell dumb, and the snarling, growling pack of wolf-things were struck mute at the death of their Alpha.

The hulking figure of Eddie Riggs straightened, bringing the head of his axe to his shoulder as he casually wiped a stripe of sap from his cheek. “Alright, bitches,” he said, kicking the lifeless pile of kindling away with a boot.

“Which one of you wants to party next?”

Apparently, all remaining seven of them did. Eddie found himself beset on nearly all sides as the four-legged plants began to dart in and out at him. He raised the Separator in front of him, blade flat, as he braced himself against the hill.

“You kids...urgh…just stay inside…agh…okay?” Jerking his head back as a wood dog clamped its jaws around the axe handle, inches from his face, he lashed out with his boot. A satisfying crunch, quickly followed by a yelp, signaled the splintering of pine teeth breaking against the stainless rod. Eddie laughed out loud, and followed up his kick with a downwards swing, reducing the reeling animal’s head to toothpicks.

“Yeah, bitch! Ya like that?!”

Another broad swing of the heirloom stove in the chest of a leaping monster, which was followed up by yet another heavy hit, and another. Even as the remaining wolves leapt frantically, slashing him cruelly with fang and claw, Eddie Riggs still swung his axe.

Five wolves became four. Another fell, bisected, and four was three.

A wolf jumped onto his shoulders, only to be dashed to pieces against the stony face of the hill as he slammed against it.

Finally, only two were left, and Eddie Riggs, covered in sap and bloody scratches, merely grinned at them.

“What’s the matter, ladies?” he growled. “Eddie playin’ too rough?”

The wooden beasts looked at him, and then at each other…and promptly ran off into the woods, whimpering.

The bloodied roadie slung his axe back over his shoulder, throwing a lazy middle finger at the retreating enemy. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you, too…”

Turning around and bending as he did (once again, reminding himself that soreness was an inevitability come morning), Eddie did his best to peer into the mouth of the miniature cave. He couldn’t see too far into it; darkness mixed with the late-afternoon sun to shadow the inner portions of it.

“Uh…hey…” he called. “You, uh…you okay in there?”

There came the sound of a very swift conversation being held by small voices. “Y-yeah…” one finally replied. “Who’re you?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. Straightforward little snot, this one. “Name’s Eddie. Eddie Riggs.” He paused. “And who are you?”

Another whispered conversation. “My sister says we shouldn’t talk to strangers,” another voice squeakily piped up.

Eddie rolled his eyes. On the one hand, he really couldn’t argue with that logic. On the other, it pissed him off no end when people told kids that without any context. “Okay,” he said. “So you can’t talk to strangers, but you’re allowed to walk around alone in the woods?”

There was a moment of silence.

“He’s good,” said the first voice.

“So, you gonna come out and tell me your names or what?”

“Heck, naw!”

Feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on, the rocker pinched the bridge of his nose. “And why the hell not?!”

A third, raspy little voice chimed in. “’Cuz there’s a huge Timberwolf behind you, ya big dumb plothead!”

It was only then that Eddie noticed the breeze tugging and pushing against his vest.

“Oh, shit…”

The unseen Timberwarg roared its challenge to his back.

Before his mind could even truly register what was happening, his hand shot backwards, grabbing his beloved Clementine, and, as he wheeled on his heel, his other hand rose up and fell back down across the strings, unleashing a mighty power chord.

The air thrummed with the sound as the earth beneath the massive abomination bulged, cracked…and finally split, spewing forth a gout of red-hot fire directly under its belly.

Eddie watched the creature writhe in apparent agony, its branches blackening as it howled. It leapt backward, a four-legged fireball, and sprinted into the woods, roaring the entire way.

As the glow faded and the noise went with it, the roadie slung Clementine back over his shoulder. A quick glance around showed no other apparent threats—no tree dogs, no snakes, no giant spiders…

He didn’t know why the Metal Queen had popped into his head all of a sudden, but he had seen those movies with the orcs and hobbits in them, and big-ass spiders liked woods.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Eddie gave it an idle crack as he turned to the hole. “Okay, kids, it’s cool. No, uh…shrub wolves around.”

“It wasn’t a shrub wolf, dummy; it was a Timberwolf.”

The forgotten migraine began tap-dancing in his temples once more. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Timberwolf. Sorry. My mistake.”

A silence punctuated by the odd chirp of a bird pressed around them.

“So…uh…you coming out?”

The sounds of another hushed conversation emanated from the hole. “Well, that depends,” said the first voice. It had a distinct twang to it; Eddie had heard something like it when Kabbage Boy (may they forever be forgotten) had passed through the Ozarks. “Ya gonna eat us?”

He stared at the hole, whose inhabitants seemed to be content to wait on his answer. “Why would I want to eat you?”

The raspy voice piped back up. “We’re asking the questions here, bub!”

Eddie facepalmed. “Okay. Fine. I promise I won’t eat you. Now, will you just get your butts out here so I can get you back to your homes?!”

“Wait...” said Squeaky. “You know where we live?”

“No, but as soon as you get out here and tell me—“

“See?! I told you, he’s a snatcher!”

“Sweetie Belle, I don’t think he’s a snatcher…” said Country.

“Yeah.” Raspy snorted. “He looks too dumb to be a snatcher.”

“But Rarity got snatched by Diamond Dogs…”

“Well, no offense, Sweetie, but Rarity ain’t exactly…uh…”

“Apple Bloom’s right; Rarity’s kinda wimpy…”

“No, she’s not! Take that back, Scootaloo!”

“Make me!”

“Well, uh…Rainbow Dash is…um…”

“HEY!!!”

The three voices immediately clammed up at Eddie’s outburst.

“Alright. I am going to count to three…and when I get there, I had better see you guys out here front and center.”

“…and if we don’t?” Raspy still had a little sass left in her, it seemed.

“Then,” he growled, “I’m going to leave you out here and let the wolves get you.”

Another pause.

“He’s good,” said Country.

Eddie was having none of it. “One…T—”

“Wait, wait! We’re comin’out…”

Allowing himself a deep breath, Eddie Riggs tried to find his center. He wasn’t necessarily a kid-hater, but he had never had much cause to deal with anyone below the age of sixteen, and if their voices were any indication…these…these…

Eddie’s eyes widened as three little…horse…pony…things slowly and carefully crawled out from the hole. One was lemon-yellow, with a red mane dominated by a huge, even-redder bow. The second was orange, with a violet, scruffy-looking mane, and the last one was white with a curly, pink-and-lavender mane. They stood before him, side-by-side, watching him with eyes that seemed to take up the majority of their heads, which only reached up to his knee. Maybe.

He stared at them, face frozen in a rictus of disbelief.

They stared at him, almost-human faces fixed in expressions of innocent curiosity.

Eddie Riggs found himself flabbergasted; even after all the things he had seen in recent months, all the turns his life had taken, all the things he had done, what he was seeing now had stricken him speechless.

“What,” he rasped, “the everloving…fuck?”

Well…close to speechless, at any rate.

The three little…oddities glanced at each other, huddled together in yet another whispered conference, and then split to stare at him again.

The smallest one, white-with-cotton-candy-hair, raised her hoof in the air, as if in a classroom.

Eddie nodded dazedly. “Yeah?”

“What’s ‘fuck’ mean?”

‘Aw, shit…’

Several miles away, in Canterlot, a certain white alicorn was preparing to enjoy a cup of her favorite tea; her final cup of the day, in fact…

When, inexplicably, the fragile porcelain cracked, just as she had grasped it with her magic.

There were many possible explanations. The first was that the cup, being many decades old, had merely broken from age. Another was that perhaps it had been too cold, reacting aversely to the piping-hot beverage being poured into it. Still another said that she had exerted too much arcane pressure upon the thin material.

However...the last time something like this had happened...her little sister had caused a rebellion and attempted coup.

And looking down at her broke cup and the puddle of brown tea in its matching dish, Princess Celestia Sol Invictus knew, as her stomach curdled with sickening certainty, that something was not right in her Equestria.