Court Jester

by writingiscool

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Random, Gore, Violence, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Human, Narcotics, Original Character, Suicide / Self Harm, Other
Length: 29259

An accident occurs, a human is ferried, and a force of darkness schemes.

Life is such a chaotic thing, it brings you unexpected challenges. Sometimes, these challenges are catastrophic, told for eons by others, descendants of the survivors of that fateful day.

You are one, your enemies are legion. But that makes it more fun, in my opinion.

This story has been brewing in my mind for a time. What happens if you drop a human into the middle of a brewing war, with nothing except some patchwork clothes, a few tools, and a magical generator?

if you want to guess what happened to him, rather than waiting, here's the basic rundown: he has a severe fear of heights, loud noises cause him to become alert, scared. he has a fear of being near fires.

Other tags that could apply: Sex, Occasional Slice of Life, Sad.

Published 2017-07-04 17:00:05 UTC
Last updated 2017-09-14 04:01:42 UTC

Act 1: Machinations of the Divine and Unknown

A nondescript, red substance dripped from a white surface, crusty plaster falling away from the ceiling. Green, bioluminescent fungus infested the darkened room, the drip of the blood on the white tiles a constant reminder of the horrible crime that had taken place mere hours ago in the bathroom of this unassuming apartment.

Sirens flashed outside the window. The colors mixed together, forming a swirl of neon light that pierced the eyes of the dying man, laying in his own blood. The faint sound of gun shots could be heard, just a few rooms away. The dying figure was in a haze, barely conscious in the disgusting room. Scars could be seen all across its body, crisscrossing. The madman who had inflicted them was only a few rooms away, but that was far out of the reach of the dying man. Little did he know, his own, twisted guardian angel was peering through the window pane.

As the guardian watched, however, a colorful stream of energy came from the sword it was clutching. The dying human was gently enveloped by the energy, its many colors dancing in his vision. Finally, the figure rose into the air, drifting towards the nearby wall. As the dying body touched the plaster wall, it seemingly warped, allowing passage through into a strange, red abyss.

Soon, the human felt a strange sensation, almost as if he was falling and rising in the air at the same time, much like the feeling you feel when you are about to go to sleep. However, the sensation soon ended, replaced by a feeling of coldness, and then the human's vision fell away to darkness.

Act 1 Chapter 1: Machinations of the Divine and Unknown

What felt like a weight suddenly threw itself from my shoulders, as I shot up. I quickly stood, observing the immediate area around me with no amount of unreasonable fear.

The room I was in was decorated as if a room for a child. A blue background of stars and the moon covered the wooden walls around me, which were crumbling away to reveal stone behind them. On the northern side of the room, a blue crib was placed, with a mobile as well. Other features of the room included a toy chest, a small, deflated ball, and a rather large cabinet with several faded pictures and dusty, or otherwise destroyed, children's books.

Looking at the cabinet's glass, I soon reminded myself that I was currently in the buff. My face went slightly red, as I set out to find myself some suitable clothing. However, it was then that I nearly tripped over a bundle of clothes. Looking down, I spotted the rather large bundle of patchwork clothes. They appeared to be made of a strong, itchy material similar to burlap, but not quite.

First, I grabbed a pair of what appeared to be cloth boxers. Slipping them on, soon followed by the patchwork pants and shirt, I no longer felt quite as naked. However, underneath the clothes appeared to be a cloak, with a pair of leather boots that had shoestrings on them. Despite the frayed strings, I slipped the boots on and quickly tied them. That done, I glanced back down to the cloak. It appeared to be, once again, patched together despite the same material being used. I slipped it on, noting that it had sleeves, and only went down to my hip. Then, I realized this was a jacket, and a rather nice one too.

My body covered appropriately, I decided to scour the room for things of use. The first, most notable thing, was a small contraption with a pair of ports on its side. Each port appeared to fit most normal electrical cords used in everyday households, but there were also ports for other things, such as USB ports and what looked like HDMI cable ports.

...And that's when I realized that there were yells and what sounded like gunfire outside. Alarmed, I flopped on the floor and covered my head, knees to my head. I was currently defenseless, so I decided to rectify that situation by pulling myself up and storming out the door behind me, aiming to find a gun case or baseball bat. Instead of a hallway, a caved in piece of ceiling met my gaze instantly. The door was blocked; however, there was enough room that I could shimmy my way through the small gap, if I pushed on the caved in roofing as I did so. This would, however, mean that I would have to leave the device behind, or be weighed down while under fire from... Who, or rather, whatever, was out there.

Then again, I could always come back here and wait. It would be much more safer than staying out there, risking a bullet to the brain from a startled... Pony?

Indeed, as I peeked out the small opening on the other side of the barrier, I saw a clash between two armies. One had yellow, gold-like armor with blue accents and what appeared to be an orange sun emblazoned on their armor. On the other side, the horse-like creatures were wearing what appeared to be onyx battle armor, with blue accents. However, these were bat-like, and their symbol was that of a splotch of black with a crescent moon in the center.

Their equipment appeared to be flintlock and matchlock weapons, with muzzle-loading rifles. However, some carried what appeared to be a crystal rifle. It fired what appeared to be some kind of energy, which easily punched through armor. The solar army (my name for them) was using British fighting tactics, mostly just standing around with a rifle in the open and firing. The lunar army, however, was actually taking cover and lining up their shots, rather than firing a barrage. However, both sides met each other in the middle with swords, what appeared to be unicorns were holding the line with swords and shields, while regular horses stabbed from behind the unicorns with glaives and spears. Pegasi seemed to be a mixed bunch, as they either used swords, spears, or what I'd like to call wing-blades.

The flying ones were able to deftly use their wings as proto-hands, they were primitive, but worked quite well for them. However, the ones that had their wings bladed would sail into a crowd and cut their heads off, extending their wings far. They would then launch themselves back into the air with a flap.

However, neither side was faltering. The bat-like ones had superior commanders and tactics, but the solar army had silver-tongued speakers and numbers. But, the bat-like horses seemed to be pushing forward, using a testudo formation supported by rooftop ranged troopers. It appeared they were desperate, but the solar army was repelling them with a flanking maneuver. They had managed to take out the rooftop support by using... Was that some kind of magic? I just had noticed how the unicorns were actually fighting, and that made me shiver. I could somehow feel the raw exchange of power, as the unicorns of each army were wresting control of some kind of ambient energy from each other, constantly tugging and pushing and pulling.

This is when I slinked back into the room, satisfied to wait out the battle...

Two days.

That's how long I waited for them to stop fighting. Thirst was sapping my strength, as was hunger. However, thirst was the more pressing issue, as I had gone a day without eating before. I knew I could drink my own piss, and I knew how to boil and filter it. I had taken several survival classes, even been in the boyscouts for a time. However, the fighting had wound down to a close. It appeared each side had elected to retreat, licking their wounds from their forward bases on each sides of the town. However, this left me to my devices and allowed me to get my own pick of killing gear, as well as plate armor. I knew, as well, I could probably eat these horses. However, I was hoping there would be rations on their bodies.

As I picked over the bodies, I felt I would have no such luck. However, I had managed to retrieve a tinder-box, several canteens, some twigs, plates of armor that I could strap to myself for some light protection, a few relatively well-cared for weapons, and a few other things. However, I had luck in salvaging some food and other gear that I would need in order to leave the town from nearby houses.

However, there was a problem. Most of this pony food was made of flowers, or flower byproducts, including buttercups. I knew most of them would be poisonous to me, and I had instead elected to sever several haunches of meat from the ponies. Thankfully, it was easy enough to cook the meat with minimal preparing. I had kept the hides and decided to store them in some canvas bags, resembling saddle bags. Adjusting these to fit me was easy, all I had to do was remove the seams and then reposition the strap, so that it would not be sideways when I fitted them around my waist.

All of this was taken care of in a few days, and I saw minor skirmishes during this period, but nothing too serious until day nine in this god-forsaken town.

On that ninth day in hell, I had exited my hidey hole to find another battle raging. However, this time, there were two unicorn-pegasus hybrids fighting in the air. Their spells crashed together, dispersing into the wind. They drew their weapons and fought, the white horse preferring a glaive and the black one preferring a scythe. I didn't really understand how people fought with the things, but sure, whatever floats your boat. I had used scythes before, but to do farm-work, as I came from a nice family out in the country. My parents owned a ranch, which I inherited.

Enough of that, back to the fight.

They seemed pretty evenly matched, each fighting with ferocity. The black one preferred beam spells, overwhelming power, while the other preferred finesse and short bursts of magic, conserving its power carefully. The strikes from the white horse were carefully planned out, as if she was playing a game of chess, while the other seemed to gravitate towards openings in the white horse's defense, attacking them with heavy force. However, the other pony was able to duck and dive gracefully, weaving around the spells and sending her own back in kind. With those fighting strategies, it was easy to see how each were evenly matched, as were the armies that clashed below them.

I don't know why, but I had this conviction rising in my chest, so I raised the crystal-lock rifle (my name for it) and took aim at the dark horse. I had handled guns before, even being trained in the proper usage of muzzle-loading rifles and bolt-action game rifles. Additionally, I owned a hunting revolver back home. With my only weapon at the ready, I fired.

Everything went into slow motion. The solar army trampled down the lunar one, finally pushing through the army as their leader fell to the ground, an energy blast having pierced through their leader's left wing, causing the large horse to fall to the ground. The solar pony looked on in surprise, fear, and a mixture of what looked like concern for a sibling. She dove after the falling body, and I took that as my cue to slink away back into my den, rifle slung over my back.

As I did so, I felt an energy swelling in the area around me...

In a flash, my vision turned to white.

AFTER ACTION REPORT:

After the forces of the Lunar Republic retreated, with their monarch injured, we detected a large flare of magic in the area. Upon inspection, we found an area where a house previously stood, saturated in chaotic magic. Several of our unicorn specialists were incapacitated by constructs of this magic, but we managed to extricate them without many serious injuries.

Additionally, we found an Arcana cartridge, which matched the thaumic signature of the projectile that injured Empress Luna. The cartridge appeared to have small ridge markings on it, similar to a hoofprint except much smaller and more oval-shaped.

END OF AFTER ACTION REPORT.

Author's Note

Ooh boy, let's see where this goes.

Act 1 Part 1: Waking Up and Getting Somewhere.

Act 1 Part 1: Waking Up and Getting Somewhere.

My eyes came open, all too quickly, the burning light of the midday sun assaulting me relentlessly. I covered my eyes, blinking, as I looked around. Smoldering wreckage surrounded me, and I felt several cuts and burns covering my body. The pain was negligible, compared to some of the things I had endured before. As I though of such things, my hand went to my face, scratching it slightly. However, the feeling of the bandages rubbing against my skin made it itch and hurt even more.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself, opening up my lungs a bit, making myself feel a bit dizzier than I was already. Confusion wracked my mind, as I tried to calculate where my things would be in the clouds of smog and soot that covered the area, rising into the air and polluting the relatively clean-looking sky. If the roof piece is there, my items should be somewhere in that area, I thought.

I walked over to the detritus, carefully keeping my eyes wary. Picking over a few crates, I gasped as I found my possessions unharmed. Quickly I rushed over to them, gathering them up and putting them in their places. A makeshift knife went on my belt, as did a canteen. My rifle went over my shoulder, resting on my back. Several rations and other foods went into my duffel bag, along with many cartridges and glowing powder bags for my rifle.

Looking around, I found the pieces of armor I had been slowly bending to fit my arms, strapping them on. I also strapped on two kneepads I had constructed out of some strong cloth I found in a tailor shop. I left the chest-plate, saving space for a bag of tools, some expensive looking trinkets, a pack of what appeared to be cigarettes, and a lighter.

I pulled out one of the cylinders, lighting it. I parted the bandages on my face, sticking it in between my lips. Instantly, I felt calm. Taking a drag, I pulled the ciggie out of my mouth, flicking off bits of ash. I stayed there like that for a couple of minutes, just getting my bearings and calming myself.

Eventually, I finished smoking my cigarette. I dropped the butt on the ground, stamping it into the dirt. I grimaced as I remembered what happened merely two months ago, but I chided myself about stalling. So, that done, I decided to get a feel for where I was. From what I could tell, I was in some very light woods, trees scattered here and there rather than choking each other out with entangled roots. Thankfully, the forest had not caught fire, so I started spreading some rocks around the still burning wreckage, hoping to at least keep the flames at bay until someone arrived.

However, it was then I remembered where I was, so I grabbed my canteen and sipped at the water, returning it to my belt for later. Then, I began to trek into the forest, hoping to find some kind of exit.

I bolted awake.

It was... Just a dream. She isn't here. You aren't there. Calm down.

I pulled out the second to last cigarette, quickly fumbling with my lighter as I tried to light it. Eventually, I succeeded, raising it to my mouth.

My addiction had started not too long after the... accident. It helped with the nightmares, and helped me cope as well. Cancer was a small risk to take for the horrifying nights of waking up, sweaty, as I screeched in fear. For the second time that day, I grimaced. Not only was I low on cigarettes, I was low on water as well. I had come across a stream earlier, but it was going downstream and looked rather dirty.

Not wanting to risk malaria or worse, I decided I'd wait to find some cleaner water. Unfortunately, by the time I left the stream, it began to become dark. I chose to make camp about a half a mile away from the stream, as to avoid animals who used it as a water source. For the camp, I made a small lean-to out of a spare blanket and some hardy willow branches, setting up a small fire nearby.

For dinner, I had a meal of cooked rabbit and tea, which I made out of some non-descript tea-leaves I scavenged an hour or so ago. I added a bit of lemon juice and used a squeeze of berry juice to offset the sour and bitter taste. For the lemon juice, I had raided a few kitchens back in the town. A nearby berry bush gave me a bounty of delicious berries, which I wrapped up in two layered neckerchiefs to keep them from spoiling.

Finally, I finished my third smoke break this day, snuffing the cigarette butt out and tossing it on the fire. I turned over on my spread-out blanket, laying my head back on the straw pillow I used for sleeping. I almost instantly fell back to sleep, peacefully drifting off.

The next morning, I grabbed my sack and dismantled my lean-to. I ate a few berries and dipped into my reserve canteen, only taking a few sips as to save it for emergencies. If that failed or was emptied, I could use the flask I kept in my make-shift medical kit to stave off thirst, but I wouldn't be very happy to be intoxicated if I came across anyone or anything dangerous.

It took me only a few moments to clear out my camp, stamping out the fire and covering it with dirt and leaves. That done, I began back on a trail just about forty meters south from my position. The trail that I set out on was rather wide, about five feet wide. About every two miles there was a bench, in varying condition. It seemed the further I went, the better the condition the benches were in.

Good, that means that I'm finally reaching somewhere civilized... I thought as I meandered along, watching the birds and the sky, as well as the quite beautiful forest. I stopped to take a rest, pulling out my reserve canteen and taking a swig. I screwed the cap back on, storing it on my belt behind my primary canteen, which was empty.

I took out the bundle that had the berries in it and ate a few, supplementing my protein with an egg I'd taken from a bird's nest. I cooked the egg over a quick fire, using a pan I'd 'borrowed' from the village. I ate it quickly, downing my lunch in a few seconds. I washed the pan in a significantly cleaner stream nearby, and refilled my canteens. Of course, I boiled the water before drinking any of it.

Once I was ready to head out, I covered the fire up and gathered my things.

Then, I set out on the trail for the second time today.

Twilight Sparkle was not having a good day.

First, a meteorite crashes into the Whitetail Woods.

Then, a forest fire rages out of control.

Finally, Discord was making himself unusually not a menace to society.

All of this and that she was currently looking at Nightmare Wars-era artifacts, recovered from the wreckage of what could only be a Nightmare Wars era cottage. Furthermore, she had discovered a strange piece of crumpled paper that could only be described as a cigarette, but no one in Ponyville smoked.

Currently she was conversing with an investigator from the Royal Guard.

"Ma'am, there's no way we could confirm these are Nightmare Wars-era artifacts. We have our best archaeologists and scientists working on it, but there's nothing more we can do." The investigator explained.

"We already know these artifacts are from the Nightmare Wars! I've scanned the magical signature several times, won't you just listen to me?!" Twilight huffed, stomping away. Even though she was a princess, they seemed to not take her seriously.

She decided to conduct her own investigation, following strange facsimiles of hoofprints away from the scene. Eventually, she found her way to the first campsite, discovering the fire. It was evident that whatever made this was about a day ahead of her, and clearly wasn't a pony.

She then decided to find Fluttershy, and ask her to help with finding the creature.

I walked along the trail, one hand holding onto one of the straps of my sack, the holding a cigarette with two fingers. I returned it to my mouth, continuing on. The woods had started to disperse, becoming only a few lone trees here and there as I finally could see civilization.

I pulled my spyglass from my belt, taking a peek through it. Such a thing resulted in me seeing, not very surprisingly, more multi-colored ponies. However, these were mainly like the ones in that solar army I saw before. I could only see about two different ponies, and I could see a few griffons, as well as a minotaur.

As disturbing as it was to know minotaurs were a sapient species, I had pretty much just decided to open up my mind to everything and take all the bullshit at face-value when I first saw the ponies. I knew I wasn't in my world anymore, but I didn't particularly care. My job had been shit. My co-workers were assholes, always making retching sounds when I adjusted the bandages on my face. My boss hated me. Worst of all, I barely got by each month.

Hell, being a drifter and walking town to town was a better life than what I had back on Earth.

My bandages itched incessantly, making me groan in pain. It burned terribly, a constant reminder of a mistake that could've been avoided. My breath hitched in my throat. I shook my head to remind myself to focus. I stowed my spyglass on my belt, steeling myself. I had to be confident, hopefully they wouldn't mind me. Too much.

I blew out a breath I had been holding, before taking a step towards civilization.

About an hour of walking later, I had reached the outskirts of the town. The sign out front said, "Welcome to Ponyville, Population: 6,871."

Not very creative, eh?

Besides the name, not much was off about the town; compared to the other I'd seen, at least. It was homey and nice, the ponies seemed to whisper about the bandages on my face, things like: "What happened to his face? Poor dear." and "Is his face ugly?" or "He must have wicked scars under those bandages." Things of that sort.

The whispers were fine, they didn't bother me and I could just tune them out. A few ponies hesitantly waved at me as I walked around town, searching for an inn, a general store, or an outdoorsman(pony?) emporium. As I walked around, I felt a smile twitching at my lips.

That was, until, I found myself staring at two small ponies bullying another. I felt my muscles clench. I felt angry, but I stayed my hand.

I heard the hurtful words they were saying, something about a 'blank flank'. I reasonably assumed the tattoos on their asses were somewhat important in their society.

I decided to let this go, as violently attacking a small pony wouldn't do very well for my reputation.

As I walked away, I noticed a pair of blue eyes in my face.

A jumble of words blasted from the mouth of the pony, as I stood stock still, consciously making an effort not to hit it.

I slowly backed away.

Then started running.

A few minutes later, I duck into an alleyway, panting.

Thankfully, I had lost the pink menace. Not sure where it went, but thankfully it stopped chasing me after a while. So, I peeked out of the alley, seeing an inn nearby.

The Prancing Pony? I don't suppose I'm supposed to meet a wizard here, aren't I?

Anyway, it appeared that board here was free the first time, then you had to pay.

I asked the bartender about the room, who merely levitated a key off a rack behind her, dropping it into my hand. I looked at the key's chain, which had a small plastic tab with 'R4' on it, which I took to mean room four.

I went up the stairs, gathering a few stares as I ascended. At the top of the stairwell, I strode over to the room and opened it, walking in and locking the door behind me.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, slumping onto the sizeable bed. I assumed it was meant to accommodate minotaurs and all other creatures on this strange and colorful world.

I plopped down on the bed and instantly fell asleep.

Author's Note

Chapter two is complete.

Act 1 Part 2: The Job.

Act 1 Part 2: The Job.

The quiet sounds of the night, crickets and cicadas, were there to greet me when I woke up. The room was dark, but not gloomy. The moon gently shined in the room through the window, the soft blue light illuminating the center of the room, leaving the rest of the room to be shrouded in darkness.

A desk against the far wall had a lamp made of metal. It was golden in color, but the gold looked painted on, evidenced by the small scratches that revealed its true color. The desk itself was not very different, except that it was higher up than any desk I had seen. I assumed they gave me the large room for minotaurs, but that desk and stool were overly large.

Then again, that minotaur I saw in Ponyville could've just been small for a minotaur. Keeping that in mind, I shambled tiredly over to the desk, hopping up on the stool. Once I was seated, I opened the drawers of the desk. Inside, I found two inkpots, three quills, a stack of parchment, some other office supplies, and a lockbox with a key nearby.

I opened the lockbox first, finding it to have about forty golden coins inside. Obviously, they didn't often check these boxes, assuming they were empty and that their patrons had taken any items they left in it. On one side, yay for money. On the other, I was tempted to find the previous owner of this room and return their money to them. However, logic won out. This money probably wouldn't be missed too much, if they had forgotten it like they did.

I debated furiously whether or not to buy a pack of smokes with this money, as I had none left. I reasoned that they couldn't be that expensive here, if they used gold for money. That meant their resources were plentiful. At least, that should make sense.

Anyway, the cost of eggs in horseland has nothing to do with what I was planning out. I needed a job. I also needed to map out my monthly costs. I decided to have three columns. Essentials, travel gear, and luxury. I decided to wait until I had an idea of the economy here before I finalized my monthly costs chart. Judging by how many coins I would get an hour, I would map out a whole month's worth of nine-to-five earnings and how much I could afford to spend in each column. I would also keep a good amount of money tucked away for emergencies.

With my chart ready, I decided to get an early start on the day. Before I did though, I did some inventory on my items, and I found a small version of the generator I had arrived with in my pack. I was kind of expecting it to turn up, but not like this. I put it on the ground, and it grew into its normal form. I chose to not question it and just say, "Magic."

That done, I clothed myself. I put my canteens into my belt, tucking my knife away in a small pocket I sewed into my jacket. I grabbed a bag of raisins and my bag of tools as well. I took out what tools I could and put them on my belt, the other ones I merely left in my duffel bag, expecting to be provided some tools if I went to do work.

I stuffed the money into one of the canvas bags on my belt. It was followed by my lighter and three rolls of gauze. With my belt and bags loaded up, I unlocked the door to my room, nudging the door shut with my heel. I turned, locking the door, then depositing my key into my left canvas bag. I went down the stairs, finding the bar to be empty except for a different bar-keep. He had a rag and three glasses in his telekinesis, wiping them down. He eyed me curiously as I left the bar, leaving the birch-wood interior behind as I exited into the early morning light.

Here's when things got strange.

Alright, so right then it was dawn. Then, the sun shot up into the sky, instantly becoming midday.

My jaw dropped, but it was hidden behind my gauze-wrapped face. I just turned my face back to the path I was traveling on and tried not to panic too much.

Ponies had just started leaving their homes a few minutes after that, giving me a few minutes of silence and a golden opportunity to beat any early morning traffic. Sadly, this opportunity was pretty much useless as I nearly got swept away in the ponies who were hurrying to get to their jobs. I elected to hurry my pace in order to get to the nearest general store, mapping out the dirt roadways of the town mentally as I went. Each of these roads were filled with ponies, doing their best to get to their work stations before they got fired for not being on time.

I had to push a few out of the way as I weaved through the crowd, finally coming to the place I was looking for. The general store looked a bit more like a convenience store mixed with a super market, but I didn't doubt that it would have some canned food and smokes. Entering the market, I found that there were only three check-outs, and no self-checks. Further investigation found that two workers were manning the check-outs, leaving one closed. At the back of the store, there were several aisles. Two seemed to have various food items on them. The others were dedicated to toys, beauty care, tools, and finally one had various trinkets on it. It reminded me of a dollar general, or a dollar store.

At the front of the store, however, were the smokes. They had several brands. Marlbucko, Camel, and a few other brands that were plays on cigarette brands from Earth. I bought three packs of the former, and one pack of arandom brand as well. However, it was only six bits, since I got four of them.

Next, I went to the food aisle. There, I found several canned foods. There were tomatoes, spaghetti with tofu balls, potatoes, fruit cans, veggie stew cans, canned beans, and canned peas. I bought a few of each, which only cost me twelve bits, as they are called. For the last item I needed, I went to the tools aisle, finding a wrench kit and a hotplate to only be fifteen bits.

I came up to the farthest left check-out and placed my items on the counter. The cashier started small talk as he counted up my total.

"You're from outta town. Where'dja come from?" He asked as he scanned a can of beans.

"I don't quite remember. I just started walking and didn't stop until I found somewhere." I said, giving him a half-truth.

"I know what that's like. Wanderlust brought me here too, and I couldn't be happier." He replied.

He asked me a question I didn't want to answer, "What happened to your face?" My breath hitched in my throat.

"I was in an... accident." I said, my tone melancholy. "I don't want to talk about it."

He was silent, until he rang up my last item. "Your total comes out to thirty three bits." I placed the desired amount on the counter, gathered my items, and walked home.

After dropping off my supplies, I made my way to the town bulletin board. I could see a large crystal castle in the background, which I hadn't noticed before then. I shrugged it off, taking a drag from the cancerstick in my mouth. The air was a little chilly, but I didn't mind too much. It was better than being stuffy and sweaty, that really made my... wounds hurt.

Anyway, the job board had several offers on it. Three people needed their roofs cleaned, four needed an assistant, and one needed a farmhand. Or hoof, in this case. I decided to take the three roof cleaning jobs, since those wouldn't take too long. I had done roof-cleaning, chimney cleaning, and just regular cleaning before. I could probably pass as a decent janitor with all the cleaning I've done to keep my home in decent condition.

The three roof-cleaning jobs each took about forty minutes. A fourth of that time was spent attempting to actually get on the roof, as I had to be very careful not to break the ladders when climbing them.

One thing to note, though, was that I was attacked when doing the second job.

I had just gotten up on the roof, when the pony levitated a rake and a shovel up to me. I picked up the shovel and began shoveling the leaves off into the pony's backyard, when a blue blur slammed into me. I went flying, tumbling end over end as the blue blur came back down, punching me hard in the stomach. I already had the air knocked out of me, so I slammed into the ground, trying to suck in air.

The blue blur came back at me, diving towards me. I rolled at the last second, hopping up. I ran quickly away from the scene, panting.

"GET BACK HERE, MONSTER!" The blur screamed as it came after me.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I replied, continuing in my mad dash away from the crazy flying sonic fangirl.

I continued running for a time, weaving through alleys in an effort to lose the flying menace, but she kept catching up to me no matter how fast I ran.

So I decided to run the other way.

She slammed on the brakes, giving me just enough time to duck into an alleyway before she turned.

I breathed slowly and lightly, watching as the blue menace flew above, looking down to find me.

Eventually, however, she left. I soon after returned to my job and the home-owner apologized profusely, refusing to make me finish the job. She handed me the payment for the job and pushed me out into the street. I decided to get the last job done quickly after that.

So here I was, staring at the vast orchard of apples in front of me. I began walking, but I was stopped when an orange pony crested the hill in front of me.

"Are ya here for the job?" She asked, a noticeable southern twang in her voice.

"Yes, actually. What's the pay?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

"Fifty bits per every ten baskets filled. Take it or leave it."

To make a long story short, I accepted. The rest of my day was spent toiling away at the apple farm, but I managed to rack up thirty baskets before six P.M. I was paid 50 bits for each ten baskets I filled, just as promised.

I returned home at eight, having dropped by a tailors' shop. I was informed that there were several tailors in Ponyville, but the one I visited was rated in the number two slot, the one that was number one was an overly frilly and girly shop owned by a mare named Rarity. However, the reason this shop was in the number two shop was that the owner was extremely good at quickly creating clothing. The owner had four pairs of clothes and two jackets done for me in about an hour.

Once I returned, I paid the bar-keep for seven nights, which was about sixty bits. My clothes costed me forty, so I was down a hundred bits, but each of the roof-cleaning jobs had paid twenty five bits, so I had one hundred thirty two bits in total.

With an uncomfortable burn in my muscles, I filled in the graph of monthly costs and then finally turned in for the day.

Act 1 Part 3: The Surprise.

Act 1 Part 3: The Surprise.

I yawned, waking up with the sound of "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!" in the background. I remembered yesterdays' events, and I frowned as I recalled the second encounter with the blue pegasus. She would certainly be a problem, as well as the prince or princess that ruled over this town. I had heard rumors, or truths, that the pony who ruled over this land was purple and had all aspects of the other races. I also heard rumors about my predicament, many coming to the conclusion that the explosion in the forest was caused by me. That day, they had given me a wider berth.

Indeed, it had been two days since my last entry in this journal. In that time, I had elected to use some caffeinated soda in order to be able to stay up at night and map out the entire town, and all possible escape routes. I also purchased a tent and a few other necessities for camping in the wilderness, as I expected tomorrow to be my last day in this town. It was nice, the work was nice, but I didn't feel safe here, right under the noses of this land's rulers. I had no idea what their plans could be regarding me, as I had read that the black horse was actually a villain named Nightmare Moon, who had been redeemed. Her true name was Luna, whom raised the moon. Celestia was the name of the white horse whom raised the sun.

The raising the sun and moon part I was slightly skeptical about, but it seemed to check out from my observations. I had chosen to not worry too much about it, and just go with the flow. The madness ran free in this land, but I was too preoccupied in surviving and trying to maybe get home to notice the finer details of the insanity of talking ponies.

However, there was some good news to this madness. According to a tome I'd 'borrowed' from a bookstore, there were types of magic that even the most mundane of creatures could use. Runic magic was banned, however, due to the limitless power it could hold. The book cited that, ideally, one could create an indestructible fortress or weapon using rune magic, however there was no real way for anyone to get it and use it due to it being sealed under the watchful eye of the rulers of this land, the Princesses. They had it in a place called the Archives, in its restricted section. I could see the wisdom in that, but if I were to survive, it would be ideal to find some.

The good news to the rune magic, is that there might be books in a place called 'The Castle of the Two Sisters,' which was located in a place called the Everfree forest. The place was nigh impassable, but if you could get through, by wing or magic, you'd find yourself in a place called Appaloosa. Going further, you'd manage to escape into the Badlands, a place where outlaws and Changelings roamed.

The forest itself was no problem, but the creatures within were. It was reported there were many mythical creatures inside, such as Manticores and Tatzlwurms, as well as many other deadly creatures. Were I to charge in defenseless, I would surely die. That was why I had saved up a side fund in order to purchase a sword and scabbard, as well as chainmail armor. While not the best, it was less expensive and less cumbersome than plate armor, and still allowed me to freely move, whereas most armor restricted certain movements.

While not the best with a sword, I had taken HEMA as a small side hobby, as well as a little forging. I didn't know how to make a sword, but I could probably fix up a few small throwing daggers or a few pans and pots. My father had been an enthusiast of living off the land, while my mother was a fencing champion. My brother had taken interest in politics, but I was more reserved and bookish. I had learned hundreds of survival skills from my father, who had also been a prepper. He taught me how to make gas-masks from refuse and how to pick locks, among other skills.

My mother, on the other hand, taught me how to forge weaponry and how to hold my own against an opponent. However, she never got to teach me how to make swords, as she was killed in an accident during a tournament. She was tired, and had not properly secured her gear, which made it all to easy for that blade to slip up and stab her in the throat.

I still, however, didn't believe that it was an accident.

Anyway, I got up and began preparing my bags. I packed away my gear, grabbed the lockbox and key, and stored them into my bags. I picked up the generator, seeing it once again shrink. It went into my duffel bag, as well as my hotplate and canned foods. The smokes went into my left satchel, the tools around my belt and the few I couldn't put on my belt inside my bag. I stuffed my bits into my bag as well, the tools in my belt quickly being accompanied by a small plastic dagger I had created, for a quick stab and run. The dagger was tucked behind my left satchel, as I had loosed a few strings in my belt in order to fit it there.

Wordlessly, I gathered the rest of my items and slung my bag over my shoulder, where it accompanied my crystal rifle.

Today would be the day I would buy my items, and begin my trek out of town. I would rest at the edge of the forest for a while, before continuing on the next day. That would begin after I made my purchases and made my peace with this town. This, of course, would probably entail dodging the pink, blue, and purple threats. One was a party animal, who I was sure had some kind of cult of partying. The blue one was obviously some kind of military type. The purple one was a ruler of the land, and had a penchant for understanding the unexplained.

If the three were to team up... I'd shudder in fear. The amount of pain that they could cause me would be unbearable, and I can't allow them to find me. Which is why I was waiting around until the night came. At night, I could easily sneak out undetected. I had purchased my items already, along with a dark blue cloak.

The daytime had passed quickly, as I snuck through alleys and purchased my items. I had a few close encounters with the enemy, but my luck held. I would not be so easily caught by these technicolor horses, who presumed to extinguish and study the only fire of mankind in this land.

Once the day came to an end, the window was opened. I stepped out through it, shutting it behind me. I had left no trace of myself, cleaned every corner and every inch, even taken my blankets and pillows. I had set the room alight as I left, only leaving a note on the front door of my abode, which read, "Sorry to burn and run, but I've gotta go."

Obviously, if I wasn't a fugitive already, they had a count of arson on me. However, the survival instincts drilled into me said that it was a necessary evil, and that the fire would only consume my room, as the other creatures had a keen sense of smell. However, a small part of my mind felt guilt, as I had taken advantage of this place's hospitality. I quickly quashed that small part.

Leaving in the same way I came, by walking from fire and ash, I quickly disappeared into the night, dashing away from the scene, leaving nothing except a note and a cigarette butt on the ground.

The morning light wakened me, as the last embers of my fire had been quashed by dirt and leaves. I slept in a clearing, only a few miles away from the castle that I intended to raid. I had left no evidence, except for a faulty trail of cigarette butts that led to a train station. I had saved them up for this particular part. They would think I had escaped by train, and catch up to the train, only to find that there was no strange creature stowed away. My devilish cunning had allowed me some time before I would have to actually fight anyone.

My plan to not fight had failed this morning, as I left at first light and found the Castle of the Two Sisters to be guarded. Another round of waiting would be required, and this was testing my patience. By now, they had probably realized their mistake and were rerouting their forces. On the other hand, I could easily pose as a minotaur, and attack them after pacifying them. Of course, I could wait until they fell asleep.

Or I could just distract them.

I picked up a rock, then tossed it near the guard. As he turned and looked at the stone, I rushed across the bridge and sailed on top of the other, slitting his throat. I quickly met resistance, as the other stabbed at me, but I parried with my blade and embedded my plastic shiv in his carotid, quickly slitting his throat.

I grimaced. Now I would be charged with murder, but not only that, I also am now a murderer. I felt tears coming to my eyes, but I steeled myself and peeked inside the castle's front room.

Inside, there were no guards. Up a few stairs, I could faintly see some guards, but that was about it. According to the map I had taken off one of the guards, downstairs was where I could find the library. There was only two guards posted there. Easy enough, I suppose, but I felt like something was up. Something here wasn't right.

I ignored the feeling, pushing it to the middle of my mind. Not quite forgotten, but keeping me a little on edge.

I snaked my way downstairs, carefully watching the two guards who were drinking (while on duty, I might add) and having a merry good time. The two were passing some kind of blunt, getting higher each time. I shook my head. Idiotic. Placing troublemakers on possibly one of the most dangerous libraries on this planet? This was more than wrong, this was absolutely alarming. They were lulling me into a false sense of security, then they could catch me.

Oh how stupid they were.

You see, there's a few things you can find in certain curio shops that make the impossible possible for others. The item I had on my possession was very rare, but I managed to 'borrow' it due to my former years of shoplifting candy. Eventually, I moved onto headphones and mini-iPods. This item would allow me to change places with anyone of my choosing. Of course, this gem worked in a way that was very vague, so I figured out that it could possibly work with corpses. So I had killed a squirrel and put it on a high up, large tree-branch. I tucked the crystal in its body, and kept the other on me. These crystals were worth quite a fortune, but thankfully it was too easy to just replace them with flawed gems that looked nearly exact to them.

The planning I had made for this moment was utterly unpredictable. To make a note, leave a trail, make a monthly costs chart and leave it in the fireproof desk? This was supposed to be some kind of super-surprise, but it appeared the goddess was one step ahead of me. Maybe it wasn't the goddess.

Either way, I knocked the two out easily, then snapped their necks. I pushed my way into the library, grabbed the books I needed, and tried to get out of there.

Imagine my surprise when the door opens and the room is swarmed by guards.

I hold my hands up, clutched in one is the crystal. I drop it, with a knowing smirk.

The world swirls and flashes, just as the spells fire and hit empty air.

I wake up.

I'm in a cage.

There's a face, telling me to find something.

I wake up.

I realize where I am. I'm safe. I'm miles down the trail. I've got the books. The crystal is crumbled on the ground. I bury it, then hurry off the road and away from that place, quickly as I could.

"They're looking for me," I tell myself. I increase my pace.

I feel a sensation, like I'm falling.

I am. I see a river.

I grab at the cliffside.

I let go.

I fall....

Act 2 Part 1: Brothers and Sisters in Arms.

Act 2 Part 1: Brothers in Arms.

Deep within the southern reaches of the Everfree, a minotaur task force had been sent. Their mission? Secret, safe, but ever important. For every minotaur in the world was holding onto their lives by a thread. A scourge had swept across the land, wiping out hundreds within the first hours. The plague wrought destruction, but these eight were the strongest of the land, swiftest of movement, and veterans of many wars. Given the last of their empire's resources and full support from the government, they had located the source of the dark scourge.

The eerie woods made the hardened veterans feel on edge, their blades, polearms, and other such weapons readied. They knew that vile necromancy or pandemancy could easily cause the plague that had crippled the empire in such a way. The brothers in arms, clad in their armor and decorated with their gilded armors and tassels of silky velvet, each had a way of knowing each other.

The leader of the group was Caesar, the tallest of the bunch. He rose over the others and carried a tower-shield, along with a spear with the blade of a gladius at the end. He was garbed in pock-marked bronze armor, with a closed face centurion helmet. His trim color was a dark blue. The second in command was Eridis, who carried a mace and shortsword. He was much like Caesar, except his helmet was open and his trim was black.

The third in command carried himself like a noble, armed with only a double-sided ruby-red glaive and light battle raiment. This was Magnus. His helmet was a classic knight helm, with a trim of red, much like his skin. His crimson eyes surveyed the area around them.

The fourth in command, a female minotaur wearing an armored cloak, wielded several tomes and a wicked-looking battle-axe. Hex, her name by birth, was a reminder of the vile curse that had given her control of magicks, and she took the curse in stride, naming it a gift. However, the price was that her body required a constant flow of magic to function, as her mouth was replaced by carved runes, her eyes made of glass. She was blind, deaf, and mute. She required magic to hear, speak, breath, and see.

The fifth member was a lithe, young minotaur with several daggers strapped to his cloak-wrapped body. He wore a face-mask and hood, and had a crazed look in his eye. His left was yellowed in sclera and red in iris. It seemed to stare off into nothingness, as if into a direction that did not exist in three dimensional space. His name was Bedlam, not his name by birth, but a name by choice.

The sixth carried an aura of raw strength and brutality. Scars marked the bare points on his chest, his dual scimitars sheathed at his hip. For armor, he wore a glorified loincloth, but had a small amount of protection from the leather raiment he wore. He was simply Brute, as he was completely and utterly mute and illiterate.

The seventh was an odd one. Rather than some kind of rogue or other, he wore gleaming silver plate armor. Holy symbols covered his armor, his gilded warhammer and shield stowed against his spine. His helm was shaped like a skull, the helm's visor was made of an enchanted glass. He was Judgement, again a name chosen, not given.

The last was the oddest of the group, as the others were not as dishonorable as he. He chose to fight from afar, using guns. His name was Bayonet, and he carried two pistols on his person. Both were revolvers, the newest in ranged technology. Each weapon had a defining feature, the pistol on the left hip was black, while the right one was white. The black one was a double-action eight-shot .357, while the white one was a double-action .44 six shot revolver. He also carried a rather large hunting knife. He was garbed in, oddly enough, advanced leather combat barding, typically used by infantry skirmishers.

The eight's trek into the dark forest had proven a waste, as each lead turned out to be nothing but superstition and myths about enchanted towers hiding dark covens of necromancers and their ilk, as well as dark legends of destructive creatures or beings who revel in suffering and pain. Most of these turned out to be just groups of vagrants or beggars living together, some turned out to be an incursion of spirits that were easily calmed by Hex, the group's mystic. Others were merely just inexperienced and easily dispatched necromancers that were trying to practice their craft.

However, this new lead held promise. Zebra witch-doctors had been spotted skulking around in Vallard, the southwestern section of the Everfree, after dusk. These vile warlocks could be seen raising the dead in broad daylight, mocking the holy light of the sun that the minotaurs once worshiped, centuries ago. Some still held to the old ways, such as Judgement. But, that was not too important. What was important was the heads on pikes that they now warily eyed, passing by totems and fetishes and the like. This meant that they were now in enemy territory.

Of course, this was really land owned by the Two Sisters, but the Goddesses didn't need to know about this little excursion. How little they knew...

Anyway, the group mystic began casting spells, little orbs flying over each minotaur's head and granting them vision into the depths of the brush. Each little orb glowed with incandescent sickly green light. A few voiced their thanks to the witch quietly, others remained silent, choosing to focus themselves elsewhere, or still slightly sore about the mystic's occasional prank sprees. The paladin was not on speaking terms with her, as he viewed her as a vile aberration.

The light allowed them to see the clearing up ahead, which was milling with zebra witch-doctors. Some stood around runed circles, chanting, others were sitting near incense, eyes closed, vile dark energies floating around them. Some were dancing around varying fires, each a different color, while some decided to raise the dead by performing rituals and such. The whole affair seemed very disorganized, but Caesar could see organization where others could not. Each were performing a task part of a larger goal.

At the center-back of the clearing was a runed throne, upon which sat the skeleton of a long-dead orc king. For, you see, the orcs were an advanced race of magically attuned necromancers. They did not believe strength provided answers, and therefore tested the worthiness of a king based on his intelligence, wisdom, and magical prowess. Zebra witch-doctors often took after these green-skinned bipedal creatures. Of course, only few in the group knew of this long-dead race, but the others who didn't clearly understood whatever this skeleton they were trying to revive was was a king of some sort.

However, this was not the pressing issue. The most pressing issue was the thundering of paws on the ground, as several wolf-like creatures trampled down a path near the clearing's left side, breaking off and crashing through the thick brush, bursting into the clearing. A crack went off, as a zebra started channeling power it was easily cut down by the harsh bark of a rifle.

A strange creature similar to an orc was mounted upon one of the wargs, black wolf-like creatures that were ride-able. Any bipedal creature could ride upon one of these beasts, but they were hell to tame in the first place. The creature rose his rifle, another shot loaded, and the gun cracked, felling another one of the vile necromancers. The minotaurs took their chances, and with a war-cry charged into the fray, only Bayonet and Hex hanging back to support from above. The creature rallied the wargs back to him as they did, then sent them back into the fray from a different angle, to confuse and trap the enemy.

As the enemy separated into two groups, the minotaurs focused on one, leaving the wargs to hound (no pun intended,) at the other group, easily cutting them down without much of a hassle. However, while this was happening, a small group of witch-doctors snuck off, beginning a ritual in front of the throne. The creature was too focused on cutting down the small fry to notice the big threat, as were the minotaurs.

Just as both let out their respective form of a victory cry, they heard malicious laughing from the throne.

A green-skinned, armored figure stood up, raising a runed glaive into the air, power gathering on its blade. However, a shot cracked out and it soon put its hand to its chest, crying out in pain. The wound healed, but it was now focused on the other creature.

"What is this?! A crude mockery of my kind has come before me, ready to lay down its life to end mine! And these beasts of burden here! They are a disgusting mishmash created by intimacy between orc and beast!" The king cried out, disgusted.

"I, God-King Erihlus, will destroy you vile, disgusting mutants and revive my kind, then rule over this pitiful world!"

"Then you will have to face me, and I would've very much have liked to be at home right now, sipping coffee. But, no, I have to get called out here to deal with some idiocy. Alright, orc, here's the deal. You kill yourself now, or I come over there and shove this rifle right up your ass and fire it into your brain. Either way, I get to go home and get paid." The creature deadpanned.

The king looked offended, but that was soon replaced by a sneaky warg gnawing on his face. He screeched in agony, but soon the whole pack converged on him and began eating him, tearing away plates of armor.

The creature on the warg hung back, then took out a cigarette and began smoking it. He hopped off the warg, hit it on the flank, and let it run over to eat its fill. He began approaching the blood-covered minotaur party, sans two members who were being tended by Hex.

"So, who are you assholes loitering around in my forest?" He asked rudely, taking a drag off the cancerstick.

Caesar spoke up, "This land is property of King Yaernos III, and you're trespassing."

"Actually, old Celly up in Canterlot owns this entire forest. Recent royal decree, something about a process of reverting it back to its natural state. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I don't give a shit who says what, and I live where I please. 'Specially since that bitch tries to kill me everyday now..." He added the last part under his breath, his other hand rising to his face to scratch at the bandages that covered it.

Hex decided to enter the conversation, "Why do you wear those bandages, Warg-Tamer?"

"Botched operation. Doctors said the burns would itch for the rest of my life." He said stiffly, trying not to get too mad and trying not to remember.

"Anyway, I've got things to do and places to be. You guys can have sex with the dead bodies and I really wouldn't give a shit, because I'm really tired right now because I haven't had my goddamn morning coffee." He said, slightly stumbling as he walked off, then mounted onto the warg. He rallied the beasts to him, then charged off onto the path, and away.

"Your highness! We've found him!" A guard galloped into the throne room, prostrating himself in front of her throne.

"Rise. Tell me, where is he?"

"We have no exact location, but we know he was recently spotted in the southwestern section of the forest, commonly referred to as Vallard."

"Immediately dispatch several capture teams, lethal force is only authorized if you lose a team." She said grimly, watching as the guard saluted and ran off to carry out her orders...

Act 2 Part 2: Conspiracies, Secret Plots, and Politics.

Act 2 Part 2: Conspiracies, Secret Plots, and Politics.

It has been a while, hasn't it? This journal has been rotting away in my closet for about three years now. Waterlogged and damaged, it is of no use, so I've copied down all the entries that I could into this new one. It's been a painful few years, running, hiding, staying alive, taming beasts of this horrifying forest. Each day is a struggle, but now I've finally nestled myself in.

A few days ago, I came across information detailing a group of Zebra witch-doctors attempting to revive an 'ancient evil'. Imagine my surprise when I come along and find out that it was an orc, a green-skinned humanoid usually described as dumb, but strong and adaptable. However, the orcs of this world are different. They are smart and strong, heavily magically reliant though, hugely adaptable like humans. They are the closest equivalent to humans on this world. Maybe along the evolutionary tree we changed in some way. Either way this opens for me the possibility of disguising myself as one of these creatures.

Also, while dealing with those necromancers, I encountered a party of minotaur adventurers on their way to do the same thing. One in particular stood out, this assassin or rogue or whatever class he would be in Magic the Gathering or whatever board game you would find this class in. I think someone called him Bedlam. Anyway, this guy is especially important, due to the color of his eye. The sclera was yellow, the iris was red. It was odd that I remember this from somewhere, but I swear this has to be important in some way. I can just feel it, like there's something going on here that is much bigger than me.

Whatever it is, Vallard is in an excellent position to get news about politics and other important things, he said sarcastically. I really need to get some news, but the outskirts of the land to the north are not safe, and neither are the lands in all the other directions. Equestria has a hand in pretty much all the other lands, whether it be spies, peace councils, or other such things. If I were to go in any direction, I would be caught and probably sentenced to my death. I can't say that it wouldn't be better than living in such a sorry state, waking up each morning and having to change my bandages, the itching burning me like...

[A dried liquid is on the page.]

Anyway, there are many fates worse than death. Spending the rest of my life in a dank cell, nothing to ease the pain of the itching, would be horrible and cruel, but I wouldn't put it past any of these rulers. The Two Sisters claim to be goddesses, claim to control the sun and moon, they must be egomaniacs. The other rulers are dictatorial. The minotaurs are ruled over by a feudal system, the griffons in a similar state, the dragons disorganized but forced to listen to the most powerful of their kin, and the other races of the world in dictator-like kingdoms or otherwise. A few rulers claim to be gods, like the Two Sisters.

I can't escape anything this time. I can't run away from my problems. Facing them head-on is my only option, and likely those adventurers will report to their king about this, telling them about the Warg-Tamer of the Everfree. Then, the Two Sisters will come in, swooping down to kill me.

Give me a moment while I go take a smoke break.

Alright, now I'm ready to continue, I suppose. This situation isn't ideal, not in any way. I need to escape, but there is no where to hide. Either face my death by their hand, or mine. A grim situation. A situation in which I need a plan. I have heard rumors of shapeshifters, bug-like ones that can turn others into their kind. Maybe, if I find one, I can force them to transform me. I know it's a long shot. I know it's not going to be easy to find one, much less make it do what I want it to. But, if I can, I may just live long enough to tell this to my own children. Either get what I want, or die trying, damn it.

Before I go, if anyone finds this journal and wonders who wrote it, my name is Asrael. I don't think anyone is reading this, but who knows? Maybe in the future someone will find this and put in a museum, claiming it to be the diary of some mystical long extinct creature. No matter the case, I will probably not live very long either way, if I get one of those creatures to transform me or not.

Maybe, though, thousands of years later, I will live on in some form. Written word, preserved skeleton or artifacts. But, that is enough of that. I need to get onto the tasks for the day.

"Hey, you ever wonder why we keep getting these relatively safe posts?" A guard I choose to name Annoying Prick said.

"No, but I wonder how you keep fucking forgetting my answer you dimwit! Seriously, each time we get a safe post you ask this question, and each time we get a dangerous post you ask me the same thing except inverted!" The other guard, who I choose to name Horace the Horse yelled back in reply to Annoying Prick's question.

Annoying Prick then sniffled, then started crying. Horace the horse just stood there, looking kind of annoyed. Meanwhile, I inhaled deeply. Then, I put the pipe to my lips, blowing hard. Horace fell over, and I quickly did the same with Prick. I grinned in success as I hid the bodies in the bushes, unconscious and tripping on hard, addictive drugs but not dead.

With that little task complete, the small Solar Guard platoon could easily be taken care of. I would leave those two and one of the other eight in the camp alive. That pony in the camp would take care of the other two. But, if I could get in and out without alerting anyone, all of them would survive. This depended upon my ability to be stealthy, which I didn't doubt considering I could sneak up behind a manticore easily, but that was out in the forest, where I had the lay of the land and the advantage of home turf. Here, in this small encampment, this was the home turf of the soldiers. Of course, I had surveyed the area before coming down here, but you can only see so much with a make-shift spyglass.

I was slightly afraid, but then I looked down to the hatchet and kris I had in my hands, and I calmed considerably. I crouched, keeping low to the ground as I liked, gliding over the grass and branches as if I floated over them. Carefully, my bandage wrapped feet stepped over roots and rocks, as I came from the underbrush, slowly approaching a small camp. Four tents were set out in a half circle formation, with a wagon on the other side. In the middle of the camp was a firepit that was still crackling with embers, probably having been tended earlier. I kept my guard raised, even though those ponies were probably comfortable in their enchanted blankets. I didn't have such luxuries, so I was hoping to find some of them on my supply run.

As I glided over to the wagon, I replaced my weapons in their sheathes, then took my lockpick set from my belt. I began picking the small padlock to the door on the back of the wagon, it only taking about a minute to set all the pins into position. That done, I replaced my tools with my weapons, carefully entering the wagon and closing the door behind me.

Inside, I found the jackpot. Enough food to feed me for days! Blankets galore! I must have cut one of Celestia's arteries! This must be one of those caravans that were carrying much needed supplies to the main fort in the Everfree, Midnight's Heart. It was nestled between the four sections of the Everfree, giving it the ability to mobilize a force to flush me out quickly, which was why I had been looking for these supply wagons. Each one I ransacked meant less food for them, and that was a deadly thing in winter. Less blankets also meant less battle-ready troopers, as they could have frostbite or other such cold-related problems.

Then I realized my luck here. This can't be a coincidence. This can't be. This has to be some kind of trap, right? I filled my pack with some of the blankets, took a few of the crates of food out, then burned the rest. I took one trunk full of much-needed vegetables, as well as a pouch of tobacco. I was relieved to find that, and almost immediately rolled a cigarette. I decided to wait, but I put the tobacco in one of my pouches on my belt. That way, it would never be stolen, especially since I put it into my front pocket.

Gliding my way out of the camp, I could almost hear the alarm in their voices as they shot awoke and desperately began trying to extinguish the fires. I was wary of pegasi, so I stuck to the shade and used a particular tree that had a small space under its giant roots where I could hide in the shade. Guessing by the smell, it was a den of coyotes before they moved elsewhere and hibernated for the winter. Once the flying ponies I could almost swear were there were gone, I hastened my movements back to my camp.

I found it razed to the ground, everything I had worked for burned. Then, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head, then only darkness.

The Princess of the Night grimly looked over their captive. He obviously had an addiction to tobacco, judging by the smell of his clothes and the bandage wraps he used to cover his horribly disfigured body. Burn scars covered every inch of him, yes, even down there. It was almost as if this creature had been through Tartarus and back, but they knew these scars were old. Very old. Maybe six years, judging by medical scans.

Luna and Celestia both were worried. Obviously this creature killed only out of necessity, as they noted that it even defaulted to using heavily addictive hallucinogenics over killing. After much deliberation, they decided to try rehabilitation. After all, it was a much better alternative than the one the nobles were clamoring for. In his new life, he would have many enemies, so they decided it was best for them to give him access to a position he could best be observed and rehabilitated, therefore they decided he would be sent to Ponyville, where Twilight and her friends would attempt to help him. In the meanwhile, he could be useful to the crown's particular needs regarding recent gangs popping up in cities all across the allied territories, which the crown couldn't legally deal with unless they hired a mercenary.

And a mercenary he shall be, at least when they find the gangs and have a good idea of their positioning and their threat level.

Author's Note

This chapter was mainly filler, but soon we will have some action.

Act 2 Part 3: Playing to the Sun and Moon's Tune.

Author's Note

This chapter was a little longer to make up for the small hiatus I took a while back. Now that we're back in full swing, let us see what kind of hell our little bipedal friend will go through.

Act 2 Part 3: Playing to the Sun and Moon's Tune.

Act 2 Part 3: Playing to the Sun and Moon's Tune.

I can't believe it! I've been captured. They outsmarted me, and who knows how long I'd been playing to their tune. They've sent in several doctors, a few psychiatrists, then finally gave me my journal and some medication. I'm supposed to take, to make myself feel better, but I know what they're doing. They're trying to corrupt me, trying to make me some mindless ape to be amused by. They'll probably leash me to their thrones and treat me like an exotic pet! I won't fucking stand for it! I'm getting out of here, one way or another.

I won't be an animal.

It's been three days. I feel like hell, the headaches won't go away and I always sleep and wake in threes, sometimes I can't get any. Bags have started to form under my eyes, even moreso than when I was back in the forest. I can still sometimes keep down my meager breakfast, but usually not lunch. Dinner is usually the easiest meal to eat, because those damn guards aren't out there, smoking. I can still smell the nicotine, it just makes the withdrawal worse. Joke's on them, when I get out of here I'm going to burn their priceless cigars, and their houses too!

It has been two days since the last entry. I caved, and took the medicine, turns out that it helps to alleviate the withdrawal, but not completely. Today, I managed to keep it down, and it really helped. I feel wrong, somehow. Like there's something seriously wrong that I can't see, but I suppose paranoia may be a side effect? It is certainly better than the pain, the terrible migraines, and the nausea. Everyday since I started taking the medicine, I get these moments in which I black out, usually between, I assume, two o'clock PM and three o'clock PM.

These moments always leave me with bruises, and I can hear the guards talking about how I always take an hour in the day to throw myself against the bars, wailing someone's name... I don't want to continue this entry any longer, this is already resurfacing... Painful memories.

i can still hear her crying. she asked me, "why is that thing on fire, big brother? i'm scared!" i just held her hand and said everything would be fine.

in the next few moments, i heard the simultaneous shrieks, then nothing but emptiness and pain.

The last entry was... hard to write. I won't elaborate any further. I only wanted to get it off my chest, maybe someone will read it and feel sympathy for me, the poor boy lost in this fucking rainbow sunshine wonderland.

Sometimes, I still demand that whatever cruel god did this to her come and face me like a man, and not hide behind divinity like a fucking coward. Everytime I do so, I only realize how futile it is to hold on to the past so hard.

So, I suppose this entry is a memorial to one I acted so much like a father for. My little sister, [the name is scratched out vigorously], whom I spent most of my teenage and adult years taking care of, whom I cherished and loved, died in an accident, that, by all accounts, should have claimed my life too. Instead, I live on in this hell.

So here's a big, nice thank you to everyone who helped make me delve into my past!

Thanks, you cowshit covered, glorified satyrs! Thanks, you fatass harlot! Thanks, creepy dreamstalker bitch! Fuck all of you! I hope you all die horribly!

It has been weeks since the last time I've written anything. I feel so much better, and I look back on this dark time and... feel worse. Much worse than when I was writing it. It only makes that little itch just under the gauze hurt just a little more. But, that's all in the past, today I am to be released to a small farming town in the countryside called Ponyville. Oddly reminds me of that... Oh shit, I think this actually is the town I escaped from.

Oh well, there goes my reputation.

The steel handcuffs (or hoofcuffs, rather) they had put on me were loose enough for me to easily slip through and escape, but the fact that the carriage was flying miles high in the air, with several armed and winged guardsmen flying beside, behind, and in front, heavily discouraged me. I steeled myself, putting on a neutral face, adding just a little bit of mysterious stranger to my looks by keeping my head down. I heard the glorified flying cage set down, the sound of landing pegasi a welcome relief compared to the boring trip. I made sure I was ready, then watched as a pegasus opened the door.

"Look alive, monkey, you've got visitors." The guard opening the door said, bigotry coming off him in waves. I was tempted to break his muzzle to knock him down a peg or two, but I decided to save that for later, when I had some weapons, a murder basement, and an alibi.

I looked at the group with indifference, a kind of resignment on my face. This made the two most hostile members of the sextet calm down slightly, a blue pegasus that I swore I knew from somewhere and an orange country bumpkin, complete with brown stetson and apple cutiemark.

The other members, an obvious fashionista, a shy cream pegasus that reminded me of.. Nevermind, anyway, back to what I was saying. Along with those two, there was a familiar pink demon and a very familiar purple alicorn. I calmed my nerves with a barely noticeable intake of air.

The purple one immediately approached. I fired up my databank of knowledge, ready to appease the bookworm with what I knew. A little purple lizard also took out a big stack on parchment, then readied a quill.

"What is your name and who are you?" She asked, oddly calm.

I paused for a moment, appearing as if I was thinking. "...My name is Asrael and I don't feel comfortable with telling you anything about my past. I am twenty six years old. I am from a planet called Earth." I stated, as if a pre-recorded message.

"Why?" She asked. It was a simple enough question, but I felt angry. This pony dared to try and understand what it is like to lose what was basically to me like a daughter? I almost did something I regretted. A few visibly shrunk, others glared.

The blue one got up in my face and started getting mad. "Listen here! You don't fucking threaten my friends, or else I fucking flatten you, got that, shit-for-brains?!"

She floated there, angry, going 'huh?' every second I didn't answer. Eventually, she struck me. I slowly returned to my stand position, then slowly began advancing, opening my mouth. "Do you have someone who is akin to a son or daughter to you, miss tough girl?"

"...Yes." She looked confused.

"How do you think it would feel if that someone suddenly... stopped breathing? No matter how much you tried, they would not come back. How would that effect you? How about if, for example, at the same time you lost that person, you also lost your wings? Your freedom, your ability to go explore the world freely, no one to stop you? That's what I live through every day, a living fucking hell, all because I made one little mistake that cost me way more than I ever wanted to lose." I finished, I was seething, my face pressed into her personal space, cowering beneath me like a sniveling little shit. I breathed. "I don't want to speak to any of you anymore today. Take me to my cell." I said, calmly.

They all looked at me like I was a pitiable little rat, with its tail caught in a trap. I repeated my statement several times before they finally heeded my words, and began leading me somewhere.

We eventually came upon a giant crystal castle, in which the purple alicorn lived. She showed me to a small room on the top floor with barred windows, a bed with silk sheets, a nice carpet, a bathroom complete with hot tub, toiletries, shower, and of course a sink. Additionally, the room had a walk-in closet. She told me that I was allowed to only leave my room with guards escorting me, and that most of my possessions that were not harmful were returned to me. I merely flopped on the bed after she left and slept.

I awoke the next morning to a bird chirping outside my window. I slowly rose from bed, slipping on a pair of socks to protect my feet from the cold floor.

I yawned, then stood up. I trudged into the bathroom to begin preparing for the day. I opened the bottom cabinet of the sink, finding enough rolls of gauze in there to make a manticore into a mummy. I removed my bandages, then took a cold shower. While in the shower, I began contemplating my plan of escape. What, you didn't expect that? I'll also be hiding this journal much better, so no one can read it. After I'd dried off, I covered my body in bandages again. That done, I took out a toothbrush that was provided for me and cleaned my teeth.

I began humming a tune as I walked to the kitchen, finding it empty. I decided to prepare some food for my warden and her pet, hoping to get in their good graces, as a small apology for yesterday as well. I made the only kind of waffles I knew how, the kind they make at Waffle House. Yes, as a teenager I worked two shifts a day to provide for me and mine. I also picked up some skills that were quite useful. Other than creating delicious waffles, I'm surprisingly good with children, and I can take care of many animals at a time.

While these skills weren't very practical in a survival sense, I could use these skills to make some money. I had about five hundred bits in reserve, in my personal safe. However, that was going to pay for my tools when I can convince Sparky to let me buy some hardware. I still have not used that generator much.

A sleepy purple alicorn came from around the corner, followed by a purple lizard who had his face in a comic book. I kept a neutral tone when I said, "Morning. I have made some breakfast for you."

"Looks really good. Where'd you learn to cook like this?" Asked the purple lizard, which I later learned was a baby dragon named Spike.

"Used to work many shifts at different places. Learned how to make this from my time at a restaurant called Waffle House." I said, sitting down with my syrup and butter drenched waffles, which also had whip and a cherry on top. I dug in, nodding every so often as they told me about what they had planned for today.

"...First we'll be meeting Applejack and Fluttershy, as they live on the outskirts of town. Not sure how well you're going to do with the second trip, but we'll see. Then, we'll be seeing Rarity. She'll probably want to make you some clothes." That gave me an idea. "Then, Pinkie Pie will want to throw you a party. You've already met Rainbow Dash, and you probably don't want to meet her again." She finished.

"I'll go grab some things, then we can head out." As I left the kitchen, the guard I hadn't noticed following me from my room fell in step behind me. I decided that it would do well to be able to incapacitate someone, so I was already compiling a list of topics to find books about. Pony pressure points, geography, history, spell books, architecture (to give me an idea of some of the weak points of these buildings), and of course an electrician manual, or whatever they had on that subject.

Maybe there were other things to consider. What if I played nice with the ponies and lived my life out here? There was nothing to stop me from doing that, but I'd rather have a small home out in the countryside where I can waste away. Maybe I can find purpose here, do something to help others. I knew a lot about computers and electricity, maybe I could use my advanced knowledge to create computers and sell them on the market?

My mind snapped back to the present, as I bumped into my door. The guard behind me slightly snickered, but I ignored him. He'd get his in time. As I entered my room, I pondered the possibility of adopting. I was good with children, perhaps I could raise an intelligent orphan to be my assistant, and companion. No, they would remind me too much of my little sister. I retrieved fifty bits from my bag, a meager sum but all I had that wasn't in reserve. I also took time to grab a crude, wood-bound book that had papers shoved between almost every two pages. This book held many of my ideas. Then, I grabbed three spools of some very special silk. I had recovered little of it, but with this much I could make some serious protection gear.

This spider silk was known as Starsilk, a very rare material only found in dens of the massive beasts known as Moonstalkers. It is named this way because the silk is black, but when the Moonstalkers secrete venom, it is yellow and gets on the silk, making it appear as if a starry night sky. I had recovered this for one purpose; this silk was bulletproof, and almost no one knew its full capabilities. It was also stab proof. I could only thank myself for remembering to bring this stuff along when I left my hideout, all those months ago.

After preparing, I unloaded my bag and began putting things into cabinets and dressers and such. This done, I left the room, the guard tailing behind. I had slung one of my bags over my shoulder, it had the Starsilk and a few other materials inside it. If I was getting a wardrobe, I was going to make sure it would be protective, dark-colored, and stylish. I was already fully prepared to explain out my ideas, but I remembered we were heading to a farm to meet a mare named Applejack.

At Applejack's home, Sweet Apple Acres, I could reasonably sum up this trip as, "Apples."

I decided not to question why they only farmed apples, and watched as the orange mare in question came up to us, fanning herself with her hat. She replaced it on her head, then began speaking, "Howdy, Twilight, Asrael, what can ah do fer ya'll?"

I answered her question, "Miss Sparkle here has brought me here to learn about this rather impressive farm. Tell me, how do you manage to harvest all these trees? From what I've heard, you don't employ any farmhands." Twilight was silently impressed that I had so easily taken control of the conversation. Speaking fancy made people think you as a smart person, which is why I made a point to try and flatter when I can.

"Well, here at Sweet Apple Acres, we all work hard daily ta get the harvest in 'fore winter comes 'round. Mah sister, Applebloom, helps us with our harvest by bringing all tha apples we collect to tha barn, while Mac 'n I take care of bucking the apples off tha trees." Made sense. She then went into explanation about herself, her family, and her farm's history. I wrote it down somewhere, but I'm sure it isn't too important.

Most of the visits went well. I got the fashion horse to make me some nice, simple clothes. I got Fluttershy to at least speak to me, thanks to my skill with animals. Pink horse ran off without a word. Then, finally we got to the end of this list. Rainbow Dash was optional, but I was determined to at least speak to her. We met on neutral ground, at Twilight's castle.

"I'm really sorry for yesterday," She began, scratching the back of her neck with a hoof nervously. "I was really out of line. I can't imagine how it would feel if I could never see Scoots again..." I surprised her by apologizing as well. I learned that she was a veteran, one of the only pegasi capable of reaching mach 2 and breaking the sound barrier. She had fought in several minor border scrabbles, as she was part of an elite flying team known as the Wonderbolts. She had the scars to prove it, too.

As she left, I turned to Twilight, "That went better than expected." She agreed.

I made some grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. It was good.

Finally, the end of the day. I was satisfied that most of the clothes I asked for were delivered, along with the Starsilk vest. It was black, and had the requested measurements. It even had a sheathe on the shoulder for a combat knife, like I asked. I pulled on the next article of clothing, which was a hoodie. It was grey, with white accents. The other pieces of clothing were jackets, gloves, socks, and a pair of shoes. I now had a respectable wardrobe. This was good, as I could really use some protection with the amount of enemies I would more than likely make by still being alive.

The last thing for today was a party. It was nice, there were many ponies there. Pinkie was rather hyperactive. It was all great and stuff, but I had no time for parties. I came up here and began planning out several escape plans, just in case. Eventually, I will probably fall asleep. I'm really tired, despite the loudness downstairs.

Act 2 Part 4: Prevention, Protection, and Pretenders.

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Act 2 Part 5: Mortal and Frail.

Act 2 Part 5: Mortal and Frail.

It has been about sixteen days since my last entry. I've been making friends amongst the town's ponies, and of course equipping myself with an arsenal behind a certain purple pony's back. She's given me more freedoms, allowing me to come and go as I please, but enchanted a small bracelet that allows me to only walk within the walls of Ponyville, and can only be taken off in my room. Unfortunately, this means that I get much less interaction with Fluttershy and Applejack. I occasionally get to take it off and visit those two, but it is only rarely. I've been arranging an escape plan revolving around these 'Fun Fridays,' as the neurotic purple horse warden refers to them as.

As for weapons, I've only been able to upgrade the efficiency of my nail-gun, now it fires five shots before needing to reload the battery. It still, however, has to fire only five nails for it to remain compact. Might raise questions if Sparkle finds it, but I'll just tell her I needed a nail-gun and it was cheaper to make one than to buy one. While technically a lie, it was a valid point.

I also created a certain costume, with the financial aid and magical help of a certain purple horse. I always loved the Warhammer 40k lore and such, and as a fan, I decided to create the armor of the Imperial Fists Primarch, Rogal Dorn. The armor was actually protective, but made of cardboard. It was enchanted to have the same attributes and toughness as the armor, but any advanced spell-caster could unravel the wards easily. Additionally, I convinced her to help me make a prop chainsword and prop storm bolter. My hope was that, one day, I could make these weapons in real life. For now, though, I had some quite powerful armor.

Truthfully, the Imperial Fists were my second favorite chapter. Grey Knights were my favorite, but I didn't really feel like going as a Grey Knight without any psyker magic, and that was the same for going as the emperor, but I did add a golden laurel circlet to the costume. I wore bandages on my face, but I decided to put them on in such a way that I could let my short hair out into the cool breeze, which sounded quite appealing.

First, for the concealment of my weapons, a small compartment on the chest held my knife, and a compartment on the hip held my nail-gun. I planned to only use my knife if anything goes wrong, but the prop chain-sword had a little heft to it, I could use it as a weapon, even though the dull metal teeth had been covered by a shield. Certainly, however, the storm bolter would of no use. It was basically a nerf gun. It fired small rubber darts, which I had made myself.

As for Sparkle, she had chosen to go as Starswirl the Bearded. Why she keeps on using the same costume each year, I'll never know. As for Spike, however, he was almost tall enough to pass off for one of his favorite comic book characters, Darth Invader. Why they had a Star Wars simile here, I will never know. But what I do know, is he looked pretty good in Vader's, or 'Invader's' clothes.

Anyways, as for Starlight, she was trying to pass off as Solid Snake, I think. Maybe they call him something else here. Anyway, we were all prepared to exit the castle.

As we left the castle, it felt a little crowded in the town. Maybe a few people had come to visit relatives, but there was no way this many ponies would be here, just for Nightmare Night. That was my first clue. I tensed, nervous, and on-guard. Something was definitely wrong here. I wanted to speak to Twilight, but there was no way to do that without looking suspicious.

We started off by splitting up into two groups. Spike went with me, and the two girls probably went off to find the others. Spike and I stopped off at one of the first games we saw, the pumpkin launch.

"Woah. That's an actual catapult?" I asked.

"Yeah, the Apple family has a lot of interesting history about this particular catapult." Spike replied.

"Please, elaborate." I said, loading a pumpkin onto the catapult.

"Well, way back when Equestria was still being founded, and there were feudal cities, a particular farming family took up the sword and shield and raided a nearby fort. Still-forming Equestria took this as an act of war, but after a long battle, they eventually granted amnesty after it was revealed that the lord of that fort was co-operating with foreign elements in order to destabilize the weak country of Equestria. The Apple family was granted right to the fort, and the leader of the family's sudden crusade, Sir Golden Apple was granted the title of lord, and holdings across the feudal land." He said, lining up a shot. I directed him as he did so, assisting in our team effort.

"Fire!" I told him, and he pulled the lever. The pumpkin went sailing into the air, and crashed into the target, knocking it over.

He high-fived me, and then we left that game. As we walked around the festival grounds, we noticed that a lot of the games were manned by new ponies. Spike was about my height, so I slightly leaned over and told him to get ready to fight if anything jumps out at us. I walked towards the encroaching corner, then ducked into an alleyway, pulling the purple dragon with me. I forced him down to a crouching position, as I lowered myself as well. We hid behind some trash-cans, watching as three sets of blue eyes began entering the alley, likely finding us to be easy prey.

"Wait three." I whispered, he didn't get it but understood the gesture of holding three fingers up. They slowly came upon us, walking up to the trash-cans at the back of the alley. I began lowering fingers as they turned and left, then we both scrabbled out of cover, preparing our weapons. I hefted my chainsword, and held my knife in my other hand. Spike dashed ahead of me, tackling one and shredding it with his claws. While he focused on that one, I charged into the fray and attacked a changeling that was about to be bearing down on my dragon comrade.

I slammed my chainsword into him, sending him flying. The other changeling hissed, then jumped at me. I used my technique of leaning back and waiting for him to come to me. As he did so, I pushed him over me, sending him sailing into the trashcans. One immobilized, and two stunned. Not bad, for sixteen seconds.

The two changelings regrouped, soon joined by eight more. I started to look worried. Handling this many would be difficult, but I could hold my own, especially with this armor. However, I doubted Spike's scales would help him much in this fight, as he was only a teenage dragon. His scales couldn't hold up against a magical assault.

The changelings began channeling their horns, and I prepared, telling my dragon comrade to run and get Twilight.

I faced them, one against ten. They had numbers, but I was no stranger to combat. Several times, I have had to defend myself from assailants. I steeled myself, instinctively trying to rev the chainsword.

I charged, slashing the first changeling's horn off, but embedding my knife in its skull. I pulled, then whipped around to defend from attack. One jumped at my back, scrambling for my neck, but I dropped on my back and rolled. I crouched, batting away a changeling with my chainsword. I stabbed at the next one that came at me, slashing open its gut as I removed the knife from its chest. I slammed my chainsword into the next creature, breaking its neck as my sword crashed into the base of its neck.

Three down, seven to go.

The remaining seven flared their horns, concentrating their beams into one. It was flying at me, but I merely side-stepped, watching as the comically slow laser slowly traveled toward me, the changlings straining at the exertion. This was a stupid idea on their part, as I charged towards them. I leaped over them, then began hacking away at them. Two died in the attacked, my knife embedding in one's spine, and my chainsword breaking the other's skull open. I attacked the other five viciously, sweeping one off their hooves. I slammed my chainsword into their head, then once again. It broke open, their frail mortal body easily broken.

This unfortunately, gave an opening to one of the changelings. He pounced, landing on my neck. He slashed at my neck, narrowly missing and cracking my jawbone. I threw him off, then stomped on his head, his skull cracking from the force.

The next one came at me, while the other hung back and charged for a spell. I quickly finished him, but then I felt a tremendous force send me flying into a wall. As I crashed into the wall, denting it, I saw the changeling turn into a manticore! He charged me, aiming his stinger at my face, but I ducked and rolled under him. I kicked the large lion in the nuts, then jumped back, watching as he turned and charged. I crouched, then jumped onto him, landing onto his back. He immediately tried stinging me with his scorpion tail. I jumped onto his head as it crashed into the base of his neck, then began stabbing him in the eye and beating him with my chainsword.

The changeling writhed, dying of its injuries. I groaned tiredly, slumping against the alley wall. Green ooze covered my costume, but I knew I had to get out of there. I cleaned myself off best as I could, then exited the alley. None of the newer ponies seemed to comment, and I was soon joined by Spike, Twilight, and her friends. We headed to the castle, quickening our pace as we saw some of the newer ponies turning to us as we passed by.

Inside the castle, we quickly briefed the guards on the situation and warded the whole castle. We headed into the throne room. I pulled up an ornate chair between Twilight and Rainbow's thrones, but I stood. I rested my hands on the map table.

Spike and Twilight had sent a letter to Celestia, now I was just briefing the Mane Six on the battle plan, and Twilight had provided a microphone linked to the Royal Guard's radio system.

"This is Acting Castle of Friendship Commander Asrael reporting in. Intelligence supports that, indeed, there are changelings inside Ponyville. Anomalous events began occurring weeks ago, when several families that had no reason to leave Ponyville suddenly vanished, their houses put up for sale. This leads me to believe that the enemy has insider information. Turn off your radios after this, I repeat, do not leave your radios on. Change them to a different frequency, as well, as to harm their chances of gaining insider information. Team up in squads of sixteen, and keep each other within sight. Any pony that cannot provide legitimate ID is automatically assumed a changeling, and thus should be tested accordingly. Over and out."

The ponies around the table were still in their costumes, and were still worried. The briefing I had given would help, but it might be no use. Most of the townspeople were probably replaced. How odd that the Mane Six weren't abducted.

"Everyone. Place your hoof on the table." I went around the table, gently giving each a small cut. Each of them bled red blood, like an equine or human would. Most didn't comment, but Rarity probably complained. Then she fainted.

"Now that we have that out of the way," Twilight began. "Why don't we head up to the balcony to greet them?" We did.

Up on the balcony, nine chariots landed. One chariot in the middle surrounded by eight. In the front-and-center chariot was Celestia, Shining Armor, and Luna. Shining Armor was visiting due to some recent issues with trade chariots being intercepted by outlaws on their way from the north. Additionally, when he heard the words 'Twilight' and 'Changelings,' he insisted on coming. I saluted, straightening my posture. Shining Armor did the same, then I lowered my hand, along with him. I walked up to the chariot and assisted the alicorns off it. I shook hands with each, then we went down into the castle to discuss business.

I started the conversation as we came into the map-room- turned- war-room. "Reporting intelligence. On the left side of Ponyville," I pointed at the map as it zoomed in slightly to Ponyville's left side, "We've estimated about a thousand residents have been abducted. On the right, about six-hundred. This leaves five hundred civilians who are not changelings, and about a hundred more that are. We are gravely out-numbered."

I got serious, as I leaned on the map table. "I have a plan. It involves several risky maneuvers, but I think it is possible. If we strategically place our warriors. Each changeling likely knows that we're here, and are probably informing their queen, right? So if we assume that they have a majority here, and that they don't know about our reinforcements, there's a chance that we could easily cut off the head."

Shining Armor interjected, "Killing is not our way!" Celestia silenced him. "This plan involves an... unsavory act, but it is one we must consider. Remember, Prince, this Queen has not changed her ways, even though Twilight has given her several chances."

I continued. "The plan is simple, really. Who is the best marksmen that you brought, and do they have a gun?" I asked.

"We've brought a squad of sharp-shooters, but the squad leader, Sure Shot, will be able to help you." The prince answered stiffly, probably a bit sore about not getting to torture the Changeling Queen.

"Good, good. Now, for the backup plan. If the sharp-shooters fail in taking out the Queen, I am taking over the entire force, evacuating Ponyville, then razing it to the ground. And don't start. If we don't stop them here, right now, who will? In this entire, wide world, there are over twenty species. Of them, the most powerful empire is Equestria. If Equestria doesn't curb enemies and show its dominance, we will be trampled by dictators who see us as weak. It happened in my world, and will happen again, until the end of time itself." None said a word. They were either thinking of how to stop me, or that I was stupid and impulsive. Not an impulse, a premonition and a certainty. I went to the makeshift quartermaster in the main hall and requisitioned a long sword, which was almost perfect for me.

Back on the roof, I met up with the sharp-shooters. They were ready, and had prepared a rifle for me. I picked it up, noting its size and weight. I lined up a shot with a random pony that was walking around, noticing as a blue filter revealed the impostor as a changeling. Neat. I noticed, as I lowered the rifle, a gnarled root-like carriage. It was flying through the air, about to land in the middle of the town. I lined up a shot on the stage that was prepared by the impostors, waiting.

A green-haired bug-pony came out, who was probably disguised as something else. I wished the filter to go off, and watched as it did. In the place of the carriage was a black cart, manned by two bat-ponies. The queen was now a tall, royal blue alicorn with flowing, starry mane and tail. I willed the filter back on, then lined up my shot. Just then, I noticed fifty buzzing wings, right on top of us!

The strike team descended upon us, forcing us back. I retaliated by firing my rifle at their queen, a hoof knocking off my aim so that I hit her in the upper chest region.

I fought back against my attacker with vicious brutality, slashing them with the sword I had picked up at the quartermaster, cutting off its right front hoof. The creature screeched, then hastily retreated. It came back soon after, dive-bombing me with three others. Each wielded spears.

I easily dodged the pitiful attack with a roll to the side, in which I bumped into a changeling. I casually stabbed under my arm, then turned and pulled my blade from its skull. I whipped it out, then turned again to face the four bugs who dared to attack me. I faced them, slightly skilled, moreso than the average man. I had taken a little fencing, but soon found other pursuits more fun.

I didn't doubt that they would probably have the advantage in reach, but I probably had the advantage in skill. I quickly parried a stab to the side, it went under my shoulder. I clamped down, then tilted to the left, breaking off the spear. I also narrowly dodged an attack to my brain-case, it hit my shoulder but glanced off. I quickly retaliated, slashing the spear in half. Two disarmed, one to go.

The two disarmed ones tried to attack me, but I jumped back and flicked my wrist, slashing half of one's horn off. It hissed, then scuttled back to the side of the other one, taking the spear from it. The changeling that had the spear before he handed it off cast a shield, allowing only the changeling inside with the spear to attack at anyone who got too close. I focused my efforts on the last changeling outside of the force-field.

I sliced at his horn, lightly chipping it. He hit me in the chest with a buck, which barely moved me. It did, however, leave a sizeable dent in the armor. I decided to finish the fight quickly, and got close enough to stab my knife through his eye. As I parted from him, the two in the force-field started trying to go on the offensive against me. I parried each blow from the spear, then chopped it in half. Both forcefully lunged at me, which made me jump back. They landed on the ground, but quickly recovered and resumed their attack by buzzing their wings, baring their horns, and charging.

I sidestepped the first one, punching it into the other one as it flew by. They both crashed in a heap, then were finished quickly by a stab of my sword through their guts.

Everyone else had non-lethally neutralized the others, so I turned my attention back to the queen. I saw only a pile of ashen bones, and a quickly retreating force of bug-ponies.

I wiped my head, feeling a dampness. I felt slightly woozy, and my ribs hurt as well. I fell to my knees, then on my side. I dropped my weapons, then I felt darkness closing in around me.

I was being moved. I felt lighter than when I was in the armor. I was later informed I had a serious concussion from a buck to the back of my head, which I did not notice due to my concentration on the fight. Additionally, several of my ribs were broken.

In the room I have been provided, I typed this rather tedious entry.

Anyway, the entry ends here. They're talking about some kind of trip, down to a place called Appaloosa. Something about a nice, quiet home or something? Are they moving me down to some work-farm or some shit? I don't know, but I'll figure it out soon.

Author's Note

Our favorite human has dealt with the changelings, and will hopefully be able to relax and enjoy a nice apple orchard.

Oh, who am I kidding? Next time on Court Jester, the Wild West in Equestria! Guns, alcohol, tobacco, old timey honky tonks, saloons, and the local oil baron, of course!

Act 2 Part 6: Double Barrel.

Act 2 Part 6: Double Barrel.

A lot of days don't start with me in my bed, in a new room, in a new place. I noticed that the only layer of clothing I was wearing was my usual bandages. This did not cover much. I resolved to get some clothes. Unfortunately, I think they figured out where my journal was. Either they did and didn't care to move it from the small compartment I created in my bed's frame.

After becoming clothed, I found a small black box in my bedside drawer. I attempted to open it, but found that it was locked. I wasn't too sure what it was for, considering my knife was on the drawer's top. Either a gun case, or maybe it was where they'd put my pay, if I'm being paid. Or it could be for something else. Either way, I tucked it into my dufflebag. That done, I put on an airy linen shirt and my vest over it. I tied a white bandana over my head to protect my bandages from the heat. Sweat on a head injury didn't sound fun. Of course, they probably wouldn't put me to work the first day.

I placed my bag on the bed, then I walked over to a pile of boxes. The big metal ones probably had my furniture, and the small cardboard boxes held my clothes, my typewriter, and my other stuff from my workshop. I spent about an hour arranging the room, which had a nice lime green wall-paper with red and green apples as borders. Once I had finished, the room looked more like a living space than just a place where I lay my head down to sleep. I incorporated my desk with my workshop, but kept what I was planning to use to forge some medical documents if I ever happen to get turned into a horse. I knew it was not likely, considering that I had a fraction of the magical resistance of dragons, which was enough to dispel weak bolts of magic and other such weak active magics.

I had just finished up cleaning my room and readying it when I heard a call. It sounded like a female, about forty years old. I'm guessing she's either the matriarch of the house, or just a tenant. I opened my room's door, then left the room, locking it with the key that had been provided for me.

As I descended the stairs, I could hear the sound of ponies talking. Sounded like seven. As I came down into the living room, I noticed the kitchen quickly. I entered the kitchen, then began walking to the empty seat on the table. Everyone, except a certain purple pony, was quiet.

"You're awake! I was expecting you to be out for another three days!" She said.

"I don't go down easy. What's for breakfast?" I asked, taking a seat.

"Apple pancakes 'an cornbread." A new voice replied, quite like an old man. I noticed that the only occupants of the table I knew were Applejack and Twilight. The others seemed to be relatives of the aforementioned apple pony. "Where are my manners? I'm Asrael. I already know Twilight and Applejack, but I haven't quite met the rest of you yet." I politely said.

The old pony replied. "Ah'm Fine Press. Mah daughter here is Golden Fritter, mah son o'er there is Maroon Tint, that's cousin Buckley, and that's his wife, missus Corn. We're all glad ta have yeh here, but what can yeh do?" I contemplated his question.

"Well, I need a little while to rest. In the mean-time, I'm sure I could help with some menial chores around here, like feeding any animals, fixing anything that needs some TLC, and of course repairing farming equipment, if you've got a forge." He seemed to contemplate this for a moment.

"Alraight, yer hired. Yeh start work tomarrow, we need sum equipment repaired, and sum of tha southern orchard's fences need a fix-me-up." He said. I reached my hand across the table and shook his hoof. Then, I dug into the rather delicious food. As soon as I finished eating, I asked to be excused. I was excused, then I left the table. Twilight and Applejack soon followed after.

They gave me a rundown of the rules, gave me a tour, then handed me a scroll. They left soon after. I had lunch, then talked with a few people around the farm. Finally, I went to check out the scroll.

I went back to my room to take a look at it. I tossed the scroll on the table, then cut it open. The seal of the Sun broken, I unrolled it. In plain english it read, "Cut your hand over the scroll." I did so, then watched as the text disappeared and became a jumble of numbers. At the bottom, a small piece of paper was attached. I sliced it out, then opened it. It turned out to be a cipher. Underneath the cipher was another string of numbers. I went through and translated the numbers into something readable.

Once translated, the text read, "Under order of law, by the Equestrian government, you are now required by law to act in defense of the crown, covertly, secretly, and you will now be a weapon for which the crown has been trained to use. Your first assignment is at the dead drop at Red Frog Gulch. You will be assigned a badge of office and a weapon. Burn this message and the cipher in a secret location.

Your employer, the Equestrian Crown."

I stared at the message, almost expecting it to be a joke. It wasn't. I almost cried. They had used me! There was always a fucking catch! I couldn't ever just live in peace, in a nice little shack in the middle of nowhere, minding my own business! Besides that, I had a fucking serious head injury! Do they even care? I almost tore it to pieces right then and there, but I stopped myself. I grabbed my bag, put the items in it, then cracked open a window. The cool late-evening weather blew into my window. I closed it, then put my bag back down. I searched around for a map, making sure not to be seen by the owners of the house. After ten minutes, I found one in a box of old brochures and maps.

Taking the map and my bag, I left through the window into the night, at about nine thirty. I made my way across the orchard, hearing the howl of coyotes in the night. I knew, of course, as long as they didn't outnumber me one to six, I shouldn't worry too much.

The relatively short trek led me to a small gulch that had many small red frogs hopping around a little pond. A suspicious tree stump pried up to reveal a safe, which I had the combination. I just didn't leave it in there just in case someone were to steal my journal. I removed the items from the safe, which consisted of a bag of bits, a badge, an over-the-shoulder gun holster, assorted documents, ammunition for a .40 caliber Smith and Wesson. Also, a small key. I tested it on the box, which popped open to reveal a kinda small .40 caliber Smith and Wesson pistol. I loaded up the gun, tucked it into its holster, and then found something wonderful.

At the bottom of the safe was a black duster, which was quite airy. It had several pockets on the inside, and I could easily conceal my gun by wearing this. I put the holster on, then the article of clothing. It warmed me to a comfortable temperature, but still allowed me to feel a nice breeze. I closed up the safe, stuffing the contents into a bag, except for the badge. I looked it over.

It was much like an FBI agent's flip badge, except it had the aesthetic of a Texas Ranger badge. I suppose it fit, for the time period and place. I noticed that the badge had the word 'Regulator' carved into it. Interesting. Perhaps that is their version of the traveling lawmen of the west. In any case, I tucked the badge into one of the top pockets of the duster. It would come in handy if I needed to ever prove my position to a sheriff or other such lawmen.

I slipped back to the house, climbed up the side, and crawled back into the window. I closed it up, then locked it tight. I examined my room, which had only the desk lamp on. I tossed off my duster, then swept it under the bed. I cut one of the floorboards under my desk in such a way that I could hide my gun. Those things done, I plopped on the bed. I fell asleep instantly.

The next morning, I was awoken at six AM sharp by the breakfast bell. I got dressed, but left my duster off. I tucked my badge into my pants and put my gun in another pocket, making sure the safety was on. I left my room, making sure to lock it. I went downstairs and took my place at the dinner table, noticing the absence of the other four visitors.

"Cousin Buckley 'an his wife left last night, while we were sleepin'. Said sumthin 'bout gettin' ahead o' sumone. How're yeh doin' today?"

"Pretty good. How about you?"

"Well, we gotta get in tha harvest this week, else we'll be behind on our deadline. Ain't many weeks 'till December." He commented, sighing.

"Pappy, when're we goin' ta have sum money ta spend?" Asked the daughter of Fine Press.

"Soon, darlin'. Ah've got plans with tha shippin' companies ta get our apples 'cross the pond. Maybe Ah'll hire on sum farmhands ta help with tha first harvest."

"I could bring in some bounties, if there are any." I added in my two cents.

"Sonny, ah won't take yer money like that. If yeh can bring sum of them crim'nals, the more the merrier, but ah won't take no money from yeh. Yeh've earned it." I still wanted to decrease crime. I could help a lot, especially with my expertise in combat. I decided that I would read through those documents, then go up to the sheriff's office after I was done working on the farm.

I finished up work quick as I could, then read through the documents. Most seemed to be on local criminals who had joined a specific gang called the 'Beefhead Bulls.' Red bandanas and brown ten gallon hats were their signature look. Their leader was commonly referred to as The Bull. If I wanted to help, one of the things that would help a lot is if I brought in some criminals, so I began thinking on the information they had here. Guessing by this information, their hideout was in a collapsed train tunnel, one that had been collapsed all too recently. The supposed bomber had a blue jacket on, according to the witness statements included. I marked that down for later.

Anyway, I decided I would deal with that pony later. I headed out to town. It was mid-afternoon, so there wasn't too much traffic quite yet, as it was four. I headed to the saloon, maybe to get directions, but found that the sheriff's office was right next to the saloon. Smart. I entered the room, seeing three barred cages. In each were two or three ponies. They looked ragged, and old. Most likely the sheriff was but a relic.

I turned to see, exactly as I expected, a pony wearing a brown vest with a silver star on it. He had a tall ten gallon hat, and had a mustache. He quirked an eyebrow at me, smoking a cigarette.

I went into my pants, pulling out my badge and flipping it open. His jaw dropped. "A regulator! There hasn't been no regulator round here since I was but a colt!" He hopped up, then began shaking my hand. He lead me over to the bounty board.

"Here we've got our bounties. Most of them are for alive, but we've got a few... bad weeds that need cuttin'. I'm sure ye can understand." I nodded, then I removed one of the high-risk ones from the board. Outlaw's name was Redeye. Got his name from his one red eye, and was one of the fastest shots according to this poster. He hung around the saloon, but no one dared approach him. I tucked the bounty up, then slipped it into my pocket. He was wanted dead or alive. I intended to deliver the former, but maybe if I could catch him off guard.

I walked right over to the saloon. Most continued what they were doing, but some began staring. I walked over to the back, where the supposed outlaw was. He regarded me with an odd look. "You got a lotta nerve, comin' back 'ere and sittin' down." I had sat down. What he didn't know was that I already had my gun out under the table.

"I'm a regulator, you either come peacefully or I blow your gut open with the gun I got under the table." He burst out laughing, but that was quickly stopped when I shot him in the gut, doing exactly as I said. Most watched in disgust as he fell over, dead. I put the gun back in my pocket, then began dragging the body along, leaving the bar. They watched me leave in amazement, both at the fact that I had just casually killed a pony, and at the fact that he was a dangerous outlaw.

The sheriff looked half-surprised to see me come back alive, but was more surprised to see what I had dragged in. I looked at the sheriff, as if expecting something. "Oh, right!" He went under his desk, then came up with a box. He pulled out about two thousand bits, then hoofed them into a bag, which went over to me. I put that sack into my dufflebag, then nodded to the sheriff. I went over to the board, and only saw a few low-payers in the town. I doubted I could deal with any other high-payers, as that one was mainly just luck and element of surprise. I decided to take a few more criminals in. Two, to be exact. These two lived outside of town, but were armed and dangerous. They robbed and plundered those who were foolish enough to take asylum in their home. They were a couple, and were on a special bounty board.

This bounty board was specifically made for regulators, and was kept up to date by radio contact. Anyway, these two were nice to those who merely wanted to speak with them, but they often would kill any beggar who asked for asylum. I decided to kill them quietly with my KA-BAR, and so I went back to the house and grabbed my duster. I put my holster on and my coat as well, putting my regulator badge in its usual pocket.

I made my way a few yards outside of town, and found myself at a little homely place. It had some vegetables growing outside, likely for them to sell or eat. I knocked on the door, then flashed my badge as soon as they opened. Instantly, a bullet hit my vest, but was stopped. The hunk of metal fell to the ground, and I dodged to the left.

I leapt over the fence, then hopped behind a crate. A bullet whizzed over the top, so I popped up to return fire. I hit the unicorn in the chest, sending him to the ground. The next one came out, shotgun ready. I ducked, watching as the pellets flew over my head, where it had just been milliseconds ago. I popped back out of cover as the unicorn reloaded, shooting her in the hoof. She broke her concentration to leap away into cover, hoof still wounded. She floated her shotgun over quickly, reloaded it, then began blindfiring. I ducked, waiting for her to stop blind-firing. I heard her pop out of cover to begin running, but I leapt up and shot her in the hind hoof, sending her tumbling into a wall.

She crashed into it, unconscious. Unfortunately for her, her lover was long gone. I felt pity for her, but I would not end her life. I patched her wounds using supplies I found in the house, bound up the outlaw, then took her back to the sheriff's office. Along with the other one's corpse.

The sheriff paid me handsomely, around five hundred bits each. This left me with about 3,250 bits. Lovely.

I retired to home, where I did not receive any comments about the sudden appearance of the duster. I think they already knew anyway. I plopped into my desk and wrote this entry, and now I'm preparing to go to sleep.

ACT 2 FINALE PART 1: The Long Months.

ACT 2 FINALE PART 1: The Long Months.

It has been months since I've been able to update this damn thing, so I guess I'm going to have to explain. It is now January. The first, to be exact. I have been working as a regulator for long enough to know that this is a dangerous job, but it was not until about two months ago that I got my first job from the crown.

I had awoken that slightly cold November morning. There was an icy feeling down my spine, even though the room was quite warm. Ventilation and all that. Anyway, I got up and performed my usual morning routine. Then, as I prepared myself for the day, I heard the breakfast bell. I hurried up and got my gun on, as well as my duster, which was warm instead of cool now.

I was kind of surprised how quickly climate changed out here in the dusty west, but it gets quite cold during the winter months. Not enough to snow, but about fifty degrees rather than eighty five. I certainly welcomed the change, as I am a cold weather kind of guy.

I began to exit the room, but I stopped to glance in the mirror I kept in my room. My eyes pierced through my own soul, and for a moment I almost swore I could see myself standing over a pile of bodies, cigarette between my lips, with a rifle in one hand and a sword in the other. I turned away, then looked again. Nope, just my imagination, I suppose. I decided to think about this later, and I hurried downstairs. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I noticed that they had already eaten. A slightly cold plate of food was left out for me. Thankfully, they have microwaves in Equestria.

After eating my slightly stale breakfast, I absently cleaned up the dishes, then headed outside to my forge. I let myself get lost in the work as I repaired and reforged various tools, kettles, dinnerware, and other such things. However, this stopped when I looked at the forge. I was not feeling like continuing this today. I grimaced as I doused the forge with water, then left to take a walk.

I walked under the shadow of red, glistening, and juicy apples. I could faintly see one of the ranch-hands working alongside the farmer's daughter. I smiled, remembering that one time I almost walked in on them. Young love... I soon frowned, putting my hands into my pockets as I returned to my rather grim thoughts. The forge reminded me of the incident, which it didn't do usually. I always had no problem working with controlled fire. It was always wilder fires that bothered me, the kind that random people go out and light in the desert because they think it won't do much.

Maybe it was because I knew I had power over the kind of fire that usually doesn't scare me. I wasn't too sure what to think anymore. In just about five or six years I had gone from a steady, fulfilling life, to a hellhole, and then to a wild adventure across ponyland.

I was caught unawares, in my reminiscing, so much so that when an outlaw of the pegasus variant leaped from the trees and fired off two shots, they actually hit me. I felt blood coming from my mouth as I fell to my knees, the last thing I had seen before the blackness consumed my vision was his piercing blue eyes and distinct black, wide-brimmed hat.

I tried to get up, weakly, but I failed. I looked around in a daze, trying to figure out where I was, but only finding more questions. I felt a straw being inserted into my mouth, so I drank the water. My vision began clearing up a little about a minute later, so I was able to see who had helped me. Turns out, a certain purple alicorn had come for a surprise visit regarding news about 'The Law in White.' Sadly for her, I had been nearly killed.

"How are you up so quickly? You had a burst lung and a burst kidney! Even with the magical healing provided, you shouldn't be awake yet!" The neurotic horse was beginning to panic, so I replied.

"Probably because the universe has a permanent vendetta 'gainst me. Doesn't want to kill me, but at the same time still wants me to suffer." She looked slightly annoyed and slightly horrified. It was quite funny. Reminded me of some of the weird looks I got when I first came to that backwater village named Ponyville.

"Well, now that you're up, do you mind answering some questions?" She smiled nervously, making a slight 'squee' noise. It was adorable, so I indulged the pony.

"Let me start from the beginning..." I recounted the story to her over about a four hour session of Q&A.

"Regulators haven't been officially employed in Equestria since the Age of Starswirl. According to what I know, regulators nowadays are glorified bounty hunters that use ancient badges passed down through their families, which technically makes it legal for them to hunt and kill bounty targets on Equestrian soil." She began reciting some more facts and stuff and compared what she knew.

A rather plump nurse pony ducked in. "Your highness, I'm afraid visiting hours are over." She politely and respectfully left with the nurse. I sighed as the door closed, getting up. I opened the drawer, picking up my gun. I pointed it toward the wall, then attempted to shoot. It clicked dry, as expected. Bastard had stolen my ammunition, but not my gun. I suppose that would've been expected, as he would have no use for a gun made by minotaurs, for minotaurs. I looked around the room, noticing the fact that the drawer had an obvious false bottom. I opened it up, finding the papers and other things from my home, including new boxes of ammunition, and my knife.

I began gearing up, my clothes and vest nearby. Apparently, I had forgotten to wear it that day. Almost as if it was premeditated. I looked over the papers, occasionally putting a hand on my chest. Some new ones were here, detailing the pegasus who had attacked me in the orchard. According to this, a train line had also been bombed and three ranches had been burned. In addition, several carriages had been robbed, and thirty had been killed in a tragic train derailment 'accident'.

Tensions between the local oil baron, who was suspected of criminal activities way back in 998, and the town, have led to several arrest warrants being placed on him. However, in a turn of events, several regulators have gone rogue and defended the baron, killing others as they attempted to come after him.

I grimaced. I have my work cut out for me.

I glanced over to my badge of office, before steeling myself. Celestia had intended for me to take this job. And no matter how hard it will be, I'll be ready to protect and serve, no matter the cost. It is all I have left.

To the town of Arid Basin, came a stranger one fine day.

He came walkin' in from the southside, slowly lookin' all around.

No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip.

For the biped there among them, had a big iron on his hip...

Big iron on his hip...

ACT 2 FINALE PART 2: With A Flourish...

ACT 2 FINALE PART 2: With A Flourish...

Much would need to be done in order to ensure my own victory. I glanced around the large town, finding myself thinking of ways to deal with my problems. Train incidents, robberies, oil baron, and gang. All in one day, let's fucking go.

I observed the residents of the town, each either cowering in fear, or whispering amongst each other. They'd heard the tales of the man in bandages. Their fear was like a wave, it swept all throughout the town. On the way to the train station to pick up my new equipment, I was confronted in front of a haberdashery. The small blue building seemed rundown, but out of the shadows slunk a cat-like pony, who walked slowly but with purpose. They kept their eyes on me as they approached, and I had to fight the urge to draw my gun.

"I don't think you want to find out why they shiver in fear when I approach." I said, keeping my voice low and monotonous.

"Similarly, I don't think you want to find out why we're here. Walk away right now, and I won't kill you." The cocky beige unicorn replied. I drew iron before his horn even lit up.

A flash of intense light, and his horn had been shot off, along with his hat. Another, and below the left front leg's knee, there was nothing. Dual splotches of red painted the ground, and the beige mythological creature. I pointed my gun at his head. "Tell me where your friends live, and maybe I won't paint the gravel with your grey matter."

"P-Please don't kill me! They go into this cave to the southwest of town, I've never been in there and I don't know what they do!" He managed to whimper out. I promptly blew his brains out. I opened the cylinder and reloaded the three spent bullets. With a click, I holstered. I searched the body, finding some ammo and a pouch containing several maps of the area. I continued on, putting those things in the bag on my back.

The town was quite beautiful, contrary to the name 'Arid Basin'. Trees were a common sight, as were small patches of grass that was actually green. Little pink flowers and white ones grew off to the side of the gravel road, which had sprigs of clovers or little saplings growing through it. I enjoyed the smell of fresh air, but then I began to quicken my pace.

I soon arrived, just as the train pulled into the station. Speaking of such a place, it was quite nice. The raised deck had many different creatures milling about, a noticeable stream of such mythological beasts pouring out from the train, which was garishly colored. It looked like someone regurgitated ice cream and cotton candy, then threw it up on a train. I had to avert my eyes to keep from bleeding from them.

I walked along, noticing that most either glared or cowered. Few continued on their way, nervously glancing at me occasionally. I ignored them, and focused on getting to the cargo compartment. As I approached, I noticed a line of ponies retrieving luggage from the cargo compartment, a bellhop zipping around in the train car, grabbing up suitcases and satchels and other such things. I noticed a long metal crate on top of several wooden ones, kept near the back of the car.

I patiently observed the ponies, but soon I grew worried. I thought that I might lose too much time waiting on these ponies, so I merely skipped ahead in line. They seemed to be cowed by my reputation, so I continued to the front of the line. I began dialog with the bellhop, flashing my badge of office. "Mind fetching my package?"

He nodded about fifty times, then quickly scurried off to fetch the box. He levitated it over, straining slightly. I took it from him, and I nearly dislocated my arms when he dropped it into my grasp. The damn thing must have weighed over fifty pounds! Slowly retreating from the car, I made my way to the local inn, or saloon, or bar, or whatever the hell you'd like to call it. Tavern seemed apt, as it was quite medieval English in appearance.

I entered the tavern, named The Brass Goblet. Inside, it seemed homey and a little cooled off compared to the outside. I examined the occupants of the inn, noticing that most looked like reputable folk, which seemed to be a complete shift in nature from all the other types of seedy places I've seen. I knew that my room was already paid for, so I decided to forgo the process of talking to anyone, and just head upstairs.

On the second floor, I soon found my new dwelling. Inside, I found many amenities, including a package on the desk. I plopped the crate on the trunk at the foot of the bed. Examining the room, I found it to my liking. One bedroom, a bathroom, and a small kitchen area complete with dining table. It seemed out of place for this supposedly nasty town, but I knew that crime always hides behind lies and pretenses. This was likely a front, one to distract tourists from discovering the awful happenings of this place.

I opened the package on the desk, finding a key. A lighter and a sheet of paper were also inside. I placed the two items on the desk, and took the key over to the crate. It fit the lock. I held off on opening it quite yet, and instead used the lighter to reveal the message on the paper. It read:

"Dear Asrael;

For too long has ponykind suffered the wrath of those who would do harm unto others, and we have developed tools to prevent such things. Medicine, self-defense techniques, and semi-automatic projectile weapons. These all pale in comparison to the tool of destruction you will need to defend the crown and its associates. This weapon is too dangerous to ever fall into others' possession, so we have carefully enchanted it to be bound to you, and by extension your soul. It fires magical ammunition, which you are quite familiar with, I'd imagine.

Inside this box is the Arcana Powered Automatic Rifle mark III, a weapon we have chosen to present to you. It fires silently, kills quickly, and will most certainly help you in your next endeavor after this one.

Your employers, Celestia and Luna."

I was excited, sure, but I still didn't agree with the idea of being tricked like this. Not that I had a choice, but... Actually, I do. I could run off into the badlands with all my stuff and this experimental technology, then live a quiet life. I won't live a quiet life, but I will run off and enforce the law elsewhere. I'm done with Equestria. This place is awful. I hate it here, and I hope to never come back for any reason.

I opened the container, and found the APAR MK3 to my liking. I loaded it with a magazine of Arcana crystals, which I had become intimately familiar with during my time in the forest and way before that. Arcana cartridges are made of specially carved crystals that channel magic from the solar-powered magical battery inside the gun.

I sighed, slumping over on the bed. I look around the room, and I can't help but feel awful. All those ponies I've murdered in cold blood, just for money and to make myself feel better. I don't know why, but I've always gotten a rush out of killing anything. I suppose it may just be a predator's nature, but when I kill these ponies I can just pretend I'm euthanizing some horses back on the ranch. No skin off my back, it is just a poor sick little horse. Too old to be useful. Too sick to move. Too injured to walk.

For the first time in a long time, I felt genuine tears cascade from my tear ducts down to the bandages that cover my face. The reminder of an event that took everything that mattered from me. I closed my eyes, and I calmed myself. I opened them slowly, wiping away the tears. I leaned forwards, pushing myself off the bed with my hands. I picked up the rifle, slinging it over my back. Then, I slung my bag over it too. It rested against the gun.

I picked up my typewriter and set it on the desk. I would be back for it later. There were several ways to get out of town. I could rent a motorized carriage, and just run off with it.

I took out the light, took out a pack of smokes, and lit up. I felt it was needed. I tucked the two items away secret-like.

Before I left for the place where I knew the murderer to be, I transcribed the contents of this journal into a book, for Celestia to understand my motives. I left out some parts, such as where I'm going, but I made sure to leave in all the parts I could. Hopefully, she will understand that it would be unwise to come after me. I embellished some parts quite a bit, to make me seem much more dangerous than I actually was.

The cave in front of me was large. Its entrance was about twenty to twenty two feet tall. I debated rigging an explosive using some black powder and Arcanite crystals, but I saved that idea for later. This was personal.

You don't murder an entire family and shoot me down in cold blood without facing my wrath. Especially if I know those people.

I adjusted my vest and duster. My knife was ready to be pulled. I had my rifle clenched in my hands, the safety off. The silencer rune on the side glowed. A cigarette was between my lips. I felt ready to face a seven nation army, and not break a sweat while doing so. Of course, I knew this was implausible, even at peak human physical condition, but I still felt ready to face anything these bastards could throw at me. I purchased a greatsword on my way out of town, which was basically a longsword due to my size. I had rigged a quick sheathe for it on my back.

I was about as ready as I could be, to be honest. This was it. The culmination of my efforts. The end to another adventure. I steeled myself, marching forwards into the darkness, the dim glow of the cigarette my only light.

I soon snuffed the cigarette out, seeing a lantern-light up ahead. A wooden table had five seated. A sixth chair was pulled out, presumably for the boss man. I delivered five quick shots to each, carrying on. I lit another cigarette, as I saw the end of the cave coming up.

I exited into a bright light. The sun was setting. A cliffside was above, a faint shadow of a figure cast across me. He stood against the sun. I raised my rifle to fire, but the figure leapt away from the shot. The pony rushed towards me, guns blazing. He was a pegasus, so he naturally took to the air and began firing from above. A shot pierced my duster, grazing my left arm. I ignored the pain, running and gunning. The weapon clicked dry, so I switched over to my six-shooter. I scrambled up an incline, rushing to a rock that would protect me from his attacks.

Just as I slid into cover, two shots fired where my torso had been, not seconds ago. I returned fire, watching as the pegasus passed over. I vaulted my cover, narrowly avoiding two bullets that pinged off the rock. I returned fire again, this time clipping one of his wings. He went tumbling, but I followed. He landed, I fired, he fired, we both leapt away.

I reloaded my rifle, holstering my empty six-shooter. I unloaded a magazine into the unaware pegasus, whose leg and torso were perforated by my rifle.

I stood over his corpse, reloading a bullet into my pistol. "There's a game we play back home, called Russian Roulette." He seemed to understand. I handed him the gun. It clicked. He handed it back.

"What are your last words?" I asked him.

"Go to Tarta-" He was interrupted by a gunshot. I closed my eyes as blood splattered across my clothes. I reloaded the pistol, then holstered.

"You aren't leaving, Asrael." A voice behind me said. I turned. The princess of the sun stood there. She had no guard. A motorized carriage. She had no wings. A horn. Different mark. Hair wasn't flowing. Pink.

I drew. I fired. I hit her in the head. I watched as it slowly knit itself back together, but I merely commandeered the carriage. I retrieved my typewriter and bought some cigarettes. I left.

The world is shifting and changing. The last of the first age's technology has faded. The first gives way into the second...

ACT 3: INTERLUDE

A family of five sat at a restaurant. A rapier covered in blood. A bullet. A fiery metal bird. A man in bandages.

A timebomb.

Act 3 Part 1: The Long, Open Road.

Act 3 Part 1: The Long, Open Road.

How long has it been since I've seen this thing? Three months? I've not been able to keep track. I'm running out of ammunition and my rifle has been broken for a while. I wised up and figured out that it was the thing that hinted Celly to my location. I broke it over my knee, then ran it over. After that, I burned it with some old, awful tasting vodka.

The first day on the trail was the hardest. I had no knowledge of desert survival beyond how to extract water from cacti and that it is hot during the day and very cold at night. That was about it. I knew, of course, there were various deadly species of poisonous and venomous creatures out here. I knew to expect the worst, which is why I had packed an extensive amount of supplies. The first day I was hungry and tired. The second I went to bed with a half-full stomach. The third I finally figured out what I was doing.

The nights were cold and long. Half the time, I was afraid to even go to sleep. I thought I'd wake up back in that dungeon, reliving my most painful moments again, and writing a cover story to make Celestia and Luna think I was get psychologically better. The truth is, I lied a lot to get to this moment, and I won't be taking any kind of risk that might entail me leaving this place.

True, the desert was harsh, but I doubted they would travel fifty kilometers in a carriage, not knowing how to extract water from cacti. The ponies lived quiet, sheltered lives. They knew nothing of the pain and suffering I'd endured in the past. Opening myself would be pointless. Their endeavors to help me would be pointless. I'm much better off wallowing in my own misery, I'm more efficient and logical.

The dusty trail that laid out in front of me was long, and I could clearly not see the end of it. I fanned myself with my leather-bound journal, the crinkled old parchment crackling and expelling dust as I did so. I stopped doing that, as it would most likely damage it, and instead used a blank sheet of parchment. Not much of an improvement, but slightly better.

I sipped from my canteen, the haze of the desert sun beating down on me in full force. The sand slowly blackened as I rolled along. I checked the magical battery of the contraption, noticing that it was only half-full. I resolved to trek for an hour, then take a rest. Besides, I was getting quite hungry.

After about thirty minutes, I began noticing smoke in the distance. A pungent smell, much like rotting flesh, reached my nose. I stopped the carriage there, pulling it off the road. I had decided that it would be wise to scout out the area ahead, before I moved in with the cart. I unholstered my pistol and loaded it with my best rounds, hoping that it would not come to using it. I holstered the gun, then pulled out my "longsword," which I will now refer to as Choice. The Choice of violence, or of parlay. A weapon to kill, or a weapon to impress and intimidate.

Anyways, I kept myself low as I crawled about an American mile, cresting a hill on the final step. My knees were cramping, but this was much too important to pass up. I pulled out a pair of binoculars, then rubbed the lenses lightly with an oily rag. I peeked through the scope, finding that the only occupants of the burning town were corpses and ash. A few fires still raged, which told me that this attack or arson, or even accident had occurred recently. I chose to search the small town for survivors and/or supplies.

This decision would probably prove to be a bad one, but it was worth the risk. I could handle any bullet wound, if the need arises. If a lethal shot is fired, and it doesn't kill me right away, I have a bullet saved for myself. I hoped that the day would never come, but I knew that anything could happen.

At the center of the blasted remains of the town, I found that a skirmish had occurred. Two sides, both wielding Nightmare War era crystal-lock rifles could be seen, but what appeared to be the invading party also had semi-automatic Arcana rifles. I looted these bodies, and used the best parts out of each weapon I found to create my own semi-auto rifle. I fashioned a sling using faux-leather straps that both parties used to hold their saddlebags on their backs. Speaking of bags, I found quite the amount of ammunition inside those saddlebags.

While scavenging, I also made a sheathe for Choice, which was much less rushed and makeshift. As I picked over the bodies, I sawed off the horns of each unicorn I came across. I read somewhere that, in the past, unicorn horns have been used by species without magic to use telekinesis and other magical abilities. Of course, nowadays such a practice is outlawed, due to such a thing being macabre and it can also be used to make oneself akin to an alicorn, if you were to gather enough of them. I read into the subject a lot, which involved some careful forging of documents and timing.

Overall, the town seemed to not have any loot left behind, except on the corpses. I managed to salvage a few items from some safes and lockboxes, as well as a few camping supplies. Some ingots were left in the burned-out husk of the blacksmithy, which I stuffed into an old wooden trunk I found in one of the houses.

I went back to the carriage and brought it 'round to the town, loading what I couldn't carry on myself into the cart. I made a few upgrades to my vehicle using scrap metal. I also nicked a mattress that was slightly charred, but only in one corner. I merely covered it with a blanket.

Overall, this was a pretty good haul. Additionally, a few intact bookcases yielded some spellbooks, and also some ink for my type-writer. No parchment, however. Well, none I could actually use, anyway.

I set up the cart just outside the town outskirts. I pulled out a pouch that had drops of blood at the bottom of it. Inside, I had collected about eleven horns from the town. Some were... Less than salvageable, let's just put it like that. Anyway, from what I read, merely touching it with a bare hand should allow me to use them. I unwrapped my reddish-pink hand, the scarred mess of tissue slowly inching over to one of the severed bones.

On contact, the entire bag lit up bright blue. I blinked. Then, I took a look around. Most of the world was a darkish blue, but the air was a very bright blue. Anything else was a varying shade of blue to grey to red. Red stuff seemed to emit some kind of aura. Blue stuff emitted an aura, but not quite so strong. Grey stuff lightly pulsed. However, a massive headache came on after about a minute. I let go of the bone, then the world slowly faded back to normal. Weird.

I tossed the bloodied bag into the trunk, then climbed into the driver's seat of the carriage. My rifle leaned against the seat, propped right next to me. I hid my pistol in a hollowed-out section of the dash, much like a glove-box in a car. I then took my rifle and put it across my lap, grabbing the joy-stick-like steering implement. Leaning it slightly forward, the carriage jumped, then began down the road again. I passed through the town, keeping a lookout for anything I missed. However, my rabid looting had left the place barren. Piles of bodies were stacked in the middle of town, burning. I figured it was the cheapest way to honor the dead.

Now, on to find out who did this and also to get to civilization.

I'd been driving for about four hours, since the crack of dawn. I'd awoken to the morning sun, still feeling a tiny bit chilly. Of course, I expected it to get hotter as the day went on. I threw off the covers, then climbed into the carriage's driver seat. I set out down the road, rifle in lap and pistol in the glovebox.

On my journey, I was expecting to find more civilization and less desert. Of course, this meant that I had no chance to wash my clothes. I swore under my breath, smelling my own stench. I wrung my hands. No rest for the wicked, I suppose. Anyway, I continued down the path. The ground had blackened, and I could see snow-topped mountains in the distance. The border between the Changeling lands and the Stag Highlands. You see, these stags were much like the Scots, while the Griffons more resembled the Chinese and Welsh, oddly enough.

Anyway, once I get to the Stag Highlands, I should be safe from deportation. That is, if I can pass off as a Diamond Dog or Minotaur. I looked over my shoulder, eyeing my grey bedsheets. I would take care of that later, but right now I need to take care of getting some supplies. Below the mountain range, I could see a rather large town. I stopped my carriage, then created that cloak using my bedsheets. I wore it over my duster, which was a little hot, but it wasn't too bad.

As soon as I had done so, I saw a patrol of pegasi fly overhead. I subconsciously hid my rifle under the seat, closing up the little cabinet. I holstered my pistol under my duster, then hunched over. I bent my knees slightly, then began driving towards the town.

I approached in silence. My carriage made only the sound of rolling wheels as I made my way to the town at about thirty miles per hour. I know, breakneck super-fast Ferrari speed.

Riding into the town, I was met with a few stares. The junk shacks and shops were littered about the sprawl in no particular order. It took me about forty minutes to find a 'Motor Hotel,' which was the primitive version of a motel. Out front, I saw several carriages protected by magical force-fields. I parked, seeing the force-field come over my cart.

I left the cart, then trudged up the steps on my tip-toes, back hunched and knees bent. It was slightly painful, but I managed to get inside. I saw the minotaur clerk at the counter perk up. The cow stared at me inquisitively, having some pretty ginger hair. I politely approached, then did my best impression of a Diamond Dog, which was to say that I spoke in slightly broken english.

"How much for room, please?" I spoke in the voice of a diamond dog. The clerk smiled, then tapped a notepad on the counter. It read: "Room and board, fifteen bits a night." The clerk was probably a mute, as I noticed a scar around her neck area. I reached under my cloak, then slipped on my gloves. I opened a pouch, then counted out fifteen under my cloak. Once done, I planted the coins on the counter. The clerk swept the bits off the counter and into a pot full of the coins, then handed me a key from under the counter.

"Many thanks to you." I said politely. I stalked up the stairs to my room, which was on the third floor. Top room, the one with the number seven on it. I found it easily, then entered. Inside, the room had everything necessary for me. I straightened my posture, casually closing the blinds on the window as I did so. I rubbed my sore back, then rested for a moment. I prepared to move my trunk up to my room.

The whole process was an ordeal, but I got it done. It had pretty much everything in the wagon in it, all packed inside. I opened it up and began placing only the essentials in the room. I then returned the trunk to the wagon. After that, I tinkered around with my weapons. Additionally, I began carving a ring out of one of the horns. I made it so that I could slip a small bit of paper underneath it to act as a buffer (hopefully).

A couple hours passed and I was sitting in my room, rifle propped on one of the bedpost's poles. I hummed a song, typing down some ideas on the 'ol type-writer. Most were ideas and plans for crossing the border. Others were sketches of the map provided with the room. It had many details, such as the fact that a group of bandits that regularly terrorized the town lived in a cave not far away.

I lit up a cigarette as I left the motor hotel. I trudged down the dark street, only seeing a few shady characters as I walked around the town, familiarizing myself with the territory. As I did so, I saw a shadow of a pony in the darkness. I was instantly on guard, but didn't show it. The moment I heard the tell-tale clop of a hoof, I turned with my gun drawn. My hand was on the hammer, the barrel just poking out of the cloak. The robber barely saw it as he lifted his gun in his red aura.

"Gimme all you got!" He demanded.

"You can have my cash, but you know, I've got to ask, what made you want to live this kind of life, kid?" I replied, him still blind to the gun I had hidden.

"Huh?" The report of a revolver could be heard as his torso burst open in a spray of red. I ran off into the night, holstering my pistol as I dashed away from the scene. I heard a commotion way behind me, so I ducked into an alley, melding with the shadows. I ducked behind a trash can, watching as three minotaurs wielding rifles and lanterns rushed by. I peeked out the alleyway, not seeing anyone, so I casually left and took a detour back to the inn. Along the way, I passed by the library. It was still open, so I checked out some books that I needed.

Anyway, I elected to enter my room inconspicously. I clambered up the side of the building, then stuck a flat 2x4 under the window, then pried it up. I entered, nearly getting entangled in the blinds, but managing to get untangled and close the window. I put the blinds back the way they were, then plopped onto the bed.

I tossed off most of my clothes onto the floor. I stuck my gun under my pillow, and hid my rifle under the bed. I drifted off soon after...

Author's Note

Alright, Act 3 is in motion. What challenges do our bipedal friend have to face before he can escape into the Highlands?

Act 3 Part 2: The Ghost with No Name.

Act 3 Part 2: The Ghost with No Name.

Over the next two weeks that I stayed in the rundown town, I formulated several plans to cross the Stag-Equestrian border. I had scouted it several times over, slipping off at night when most of the townspeople were asleep. I managed to get a few good looks at the border.

Most of it was a concrete wall, about thirty feet high and eight thick. It had a heavy steel door that only opened on one side. The area above and round it also had a wall, preventing me from getting through. There was a guardhouse about forty feet from the gate, and the gate was guarded by four guards on the wall. There must have been at least twelve in the compound. I knew this because four of them patrolled the nearby area during the day. They mostly inspected the walls that were not the main gate for any climbers, diggers, or any of the other sort of undesirable. Unfortunately, these ponies underestimated my human resilience.

I can go for days without sleeping. I know this because I have tested it before. I won't go into anymore detail, but it is not related to the... Incident.

Anyway, the shift rotation happened every eight hours. This was important, because this meant that there was about a fifteen to thirty minute rotation period at midnight, which is absolutely perfect for my purposes and intents. While they work at changing shifts, I can infiltrate and knock out all the soldiers in the barracks. Perhaps a sleeping gas bomb. Or, I could attempt to slip through with the carriage...

So many possibilities... I suppose I should wait until an opportunity presents itself. If none does, I suppose I'll just have to employ other means, such as a diversion, or a full-on assault. Either way, it'll make ends meet. But, killing Celestia's guards won't exactly make her cease her efforts to take me in. I should prepare to do this stealthily and without casualties, but expect it to go completely out of hand. After all, no plan survives contact with the enemy, as they say.

But, preparations come before execution, and I had a lot of preparation to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. I suspect I'll have a week and a half before Celestia catches up to me, maybe more if she's as slow as the American postal service.

Anyway, that's besides the point. Don't mind those splotches of dried blood on the last page, I just had a minor... Problem. You see, Celestia is already sending her agents abroad to track me down. It so happens that this particular one had some luck. He was quite clever, in deducing my identity anyway. He figured out who I was based on the Marlbucko cigarette butts that get flung around town when I'm about.

Unfortunately, he couldn't figure out where I lived in town, due to the multiple hotels that I walk by on a daily basis to go anywhere. I deduced his location, his identity, and his allegiance. Thankfully, I captured him alive. This is a transcript of the interrogation.

June 7th, 12:38 AM
Outskirts of Equestria, Carrion Region
Interrogation of Celestia's Agent, Crown Regal

A very dark room, with only small slits of moonlight slipping through the blinds. The sound of a rope swaying gently, and a snort as a dark figure awakens.

"Ah, you're finally awake. I was beginning to think you'd died of oxygen loss from the tape on your muzzle. That's fortunate news." A very muffled yell can be heard in the background.

"Are you quite done? I'll remove the tape if you're ready to co-operate." A faint sound of dripping, and then the sound of a heavy object swishing, almost like nodding. A sound of ripping, then some coughing.

"First question; how did you find me?" The cloaked figure asked, bandages under its hood shifting as it spoke.

"Pretty easy. You're the only "diamond dog" in this town that smokes Marlbucko. And actually speaks more than fifteen equestrian words." A voice replied to the cloaked figure's question.

"Very well. I'll keep that in mind. Second question; who are you and what are your orders?" The bandaged man spoke softly.

"Classified information, dipshit." A sound of a fleshy squelch, then a muffled scream.

"How about you answer the question without your sarcasm and I won't stab you in the other front leg, three-hoof?"

A sound of sniffling, then the pony answers. "Crown Regal. Ordered by Her Royal Majesty to investigate the outskirts of Equestria."

"See now, that wasn't so hard, now was it? Now, onto my third question. Does Celestia know I'm here?" The cloaked figure asked, in a sarcastic sort of tone.

"No." The pony replied simply.

"Alright... Fourth.. and fifth. Where do you live and how many guards are at the border?"

"I have room 4b at the Hearthooves hotel. Twelve."

"Best way to take out the border barracks?"

"There's a leaky gas pipe right underneath the edge of the left side of the barracks. Take a match to it, and it'll go up in flames in seconds. Bar the doors if you need to, you heartless bastard."

"I mean non-lethally. If possible."

The second voice went quiet for about a minute on the tape. "In my room there is a sleeping gas grenade."

"Very well. Your use has come to an end." The sound of a slitting throat, then the tape would end if this was a recording.

After wringing my hands out and cleaning my knives, I headed on over to the agent's apartment. Thankfully, he left his key in his coat like a dumbass. Speaking of the coat, the thing wasn't that bad. It was brown and much like my duster, except it had buttons and a hood on it. With a little bit of fitting, I could use it much better, but that was for later, when I got past the border. For now, I tucked the coat into my bag.

Anyway, trudging across town and through the alleys was easy and had the benefit of not drawing too much attention. Slipping my way past ponies and other creatures in the crowd was easy, and I blended quite well. I stepped out of the crowd, then silently entered the hotel. I ignored the creature manning the desk and headed upstairs, fourth floor up.

At the front door of this agent who tried to take me in's apartment, I inserted the key and unlocked it, slipping inside quickly. In the room, I noticed the spartan design of the place. Two lockers sat against one wall, and a bunk bed that was basically just a brick with a sheet on it was the main feature of the room. It had a desk, on which several sleep grenades and papers were scattered.

The two other rooms, the kitchenette and bathroom, were similar to the main room in that it was very bare bones, with only the essential features needed for each to be what they are. Making him think I didn't know where he was living was a good idea, this was a very good fake.

I walked over to the locker, then opened it easily. I punched in a three digit code, then watched as the back of the locker opened into a small room. I stepped down the mini-stairs. The marble floor clicked under my boots as I began exploring the room full of supplies and such. There was enough to survive a nuclear incident in here! I cracked open crates full of MREs and other such things, finding quite an abundance of Arcana magazines.

Finally, I opened the last crate, buried under the others. It had a very familiar weapon inside. The APAR MK3 lay in its case, a folded note laid neatly on top of the weapon.

It simply said, "Give him hell, Agent Regal. Also, if he ever manages to get it away from you, destroy it. This one doesn't have a tracking crystal." Well, that's very good news. A free rifle, no strings attached! Sure, I had to kill someone to get to it, but we all have to do regrettable things.

I callously stuffed papers into my cloak, uncaring whether they had importance or not. This was the perfect opportunity to cross the border. I decided that leaving tonight was the best course of action.

ACT 2: INTERLUDE

There's several sounds.

Screeching.

Explosions.

Metal ripping.

My own screaming.

Silence.