Fall of Equestria: The Ghost of Lindisbarne

The sun had disappeared from the sky. A fact that was quite obvious given the lights that had been turned on in the mayor's office, so that its two sole occupants would not be consigned to sitting in the darkness.

"What are we going to do, Dainn?" The thinner, smaller stag asked. He was standing, not sitting, at the table. He was leaning on the table, holding himself up with his hands as he looked at the larger stag sitting in his chair.

"For the last time, Anvari, I don't know." Dainn responded. He was reclining back in his chair, a look pure annoyance on his face. "I didn't expect any of this to happen."

"You expected to just come in, take the town, and no problems?" Anvari asked sarcastically.

Dainn nodded. "Well, yes. I mean okay, I expected there might be a bump here or there. But not this."

"It's obvious that their true target was the council all along. And you." Anvari commented.

"Tell me something we haven't already figured out." Dainn sighed with frustration.

Anvari remained silent. Dainn raised an eyebrow at him as he leaned back. He idly put his hands together in front of his chest, lazily pushing his fingers against one another again and again.

"...Still," Dainn finally broke the silence. "Something does bother me about all of this."

"Which is?" Anvari questioned.

"If our malefactor's true target was the council all along, why go through all of this trouble? Thinning the ranks, destroying supplies. Seems a like an awful lot of damage just to take out a few people."

Anvari was about to respond when suddenly the door flew open. A stag stormed into the room, followed by a mare that meekly crawled behind him.

"Ah, Vestri." Dainn greeted dryly. "Good to see you. Tell me, how is your brother coming? Is he finally ready to apologise for his behavior?" Dainn questioned.

"My brother..." Vestri responded angrily. "My beloved brother Brother... is dead!" He huffed.

"What? Dead?" Dainn asked. "I didn't think my kick was that powerful." He responded sarcastically.

He angrily pointed a finger at Dainn."You... You left him to die in that alley! You let the Ghost kill him!"

Anvari looked at Dainn, questioningly. Dainn paid him no mind, continuing only to stare at vestri with a vacant expression.

"First of all," the large stag responded cooly, "...please don't try to tug on my heartstrings with this 'beloved brother' act of yours. You never loved him at all, and everyone here knows that. In fact I'm surprised you're not here to thank me for his death."

"How dare you!" Vestri yelled in response.

"Besides, aren't you the commander of the army? If you did care for your brother as much as you seem to want to let on despite everyone knowing the contrary, I would think you would have the sense to post a few guards near him while he recovered from that blow I gave him."

"I didn't think of it at the time!" Vestri whined.

"Yes, that's your real problem, isn't it? You don't think. None of you do. Maybe if you did, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with." Dainn shot back. "Like right now, you barge in here, directly accuse me of killing your brother, crying crocodile tears for them. All while forgetting one simple fact:"

"And what fact might that be?" Vestri growled.

"That I am still your king. And as such, you must still respect me as your superior."

"Yeah, we'll see how long that lasts!" Vestri shot back. "Sunny, come." He yelled, yanking her leash harshly as he disappeared through the door as suddenly as he had arrived.

Dainn rolled his eyes as they left. Anvari pushed himself off of the table, standing up straight. "I think I'll let myself out." He said nervously as he made his way to the door.

"Yeah, you do that." Dainn responded without a hint of emotion in his voice, his eyes not even watching his guest as he left. When he was alone in the room, the king let out a long sigh.
"Why did Svarndagr ever stick me with those two?" The King groaned aloud.

Elsewhere on the edge of town, four stags stood watch over the entrance of a house.

"Is it just me, or is this night lasting a lot longer than it really should?" One of them suddenly asked. "I mean, it feels like we've been standing out here for a good several hours already."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Another one piped in. "With all this shit happening, I've been on edge all night. I keep askin' myself what kind of short straw I picked to be standing guard duty to some old fart instead of interrogatin' some hot piece of pussy?"

"Hey, this 'old fart' happens to be Sindri, remember?" The third one spoke suddenly. "The king's mentor and all that? Councilman? This is high priority stuff we're doin'. Don't you go forgetting it."

"Yeah yeah. Whatever." The stag who had started this conversation groaned. "So uh, who do you think is behind this?" He asked, hoping to keep this small talk going in order to pass the time. "I mean, all this crap we're going through now?"

"Honestly," The one closest to him responded, "up until today I thought it was that Gunne guy. You know what they say about stags that share a cunt with their sister?" Everyone nodded. "Though now that he's gone, I really don't know."

"Honestly, I wouldn't put it past Dainn himself at this point." Another one piped up. Everyone stared at him. "What? It's just a rumor." He responded weakly. "Apparently Dainn was always sick of all us schmucks are actin', and wanted to do some purging shit on us or something."

"Shut up, you're an idiot." Another one said, smacking the stag upside the head. "Dainn isn't a traitor. I mean, he brought us here and all to get away from the big boom. S'not his fault everything went to shit."

"Okay then, smartass." The other stag said, still rubbing the back of his head where his fellow had hit him. "Who do you think is behind it?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He shrugged arrogantly. "It's obviously Vestri. Or someone working for'm. I mean, think about it: With Ivangir and Dainn out of the way, he'd be king, right? And with none of the other council members to oppose it, he'd have free reign of everything."

"You guys are so pathetic." The third one laughed, earning glares from the other two. "I honestly can't believe anyone is still buying this 'traitor' nonsense."

"Well what else could it be?" The first stag responded. "I mean it's not like anyone else could know where to hit us the hardest, and when?"

"Oh yes. Some ships in the harbor. People unloading stuff from them. Definitely not a priority target." The guard responded sarcastically. "Seriously, it might as well have had a big flag over top of them that said 'This is important! Attack this!'"

"Maybe, but you still didn't answer the question. If it's not traitors, who then?" The other stag responded.

"It's probably some sort of special forces unit or agent the rulers of this land sent out when we hit the town. Hell, for all I know, they could be doing it themselves."

"That's ridiculous!" The other stag shouted in response.

"Oh, is it really?" He responded harshly.

"Yes, it is!" The second one responded. "If it was assault soldiers or something, we have runes for that. They would have picked them up?"

"Are you sure about that? How do you know they even work? What if the ponies have some way to detect it or go around it? Hell, they could have come in the same way we did: through the water. In fact, for all we know they could be sitting outside, casting spells in here. Or maybe they have sleeper agents all over the place just for this sort of thing. Prove me wrong. Oh wait, you can't."

The other two stags tried to come up with a response, their mouths occasionally opening, but failing to form a word. Their eyes shifted towards their last remaining fellow. A smaller stag who was shaking nervously in the corner, constantly scanning the area around him. He seemed to be a very young one, most likely he'd just reached adulthood.

"Hey, you!" One of them said, startling the small stag. "You've been rather quiet all night. What do you think about all this?"

The stag looked at all three of them and gulped.

"I don't even care what's causing it." He said shakily. "I'm just sitting here thinking 'why the hell haven't I left already?' Like the other bucks who left yesterday."

"Traitor!" One of them yelled.

"What, you want the ponies to enslave you?" the other one shouted.

"Yeah, they'll fuck you in the ass! With a twelve-inch dildo, at the very least!"

"I don't care if it's twenty-one inches, I'd rather take it in the ass than be burned to a crisp. Or stabbed through the gut. Or whatever this Ghost does to people!" He yelled in his own defense. "At least there'd be food and safety. Here, we got some, some... Thing hunting us, and killing everything that gets in its way! Face it, Dainn and Vestri are idiots who have no plans to get us out of this shit. I don't care what this "Celestia" does, anything's better than being sitting ducks guarding some stupid old fart!"

A crash from inside the house broke the argument before any of them could respond.

"I'm going in." The first one, said, rushing up the steps.

"No, wait!" The second one replied, but it was too late. The first one was already in, and the rest of the group was already following close behind.

"It sounded it came from-" One of them said, stopping when his foot hit something. He looked down, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"What, what is it-" One of his fellows said, noticing his compatriot looking at a certain spot. They all stopped when they all saw what he saw.

"Well, fuck."

There, lying on the floor, was the body of an old stag. Dead. No signs of bruises save for a single mark on his throat. No signs of struggle. No blood. No cuts.

"We're too late." One of them said sadly.

"How the hell did they even get in anyway? We had the door guarded-"

"There!" One of the stags pointed towards an open window, in the back, near the kitchen. They all ran towards it, hoping to catch some glimpse of the perpetrator. Alas, it was for naught. Whoever had taken the old stag's life was long gone by now.

"Dainn is gonna be pissed." The biggest in the group said. "But then again, if this keeps up he might not even last the night-"

He looked at the stag whom he had called a traitor moments earlier.

"-You know what? I think you're onto something, little guy. I'm getting the hell out of this shithole. Who's with me?"

They all nodded. In mere seconds, the room was vacant, save for the corpse of Dainn's mentor.

Another house, another caribou standing guard. This guard had the distinct fortune of actually being allowed inside it, rather than just guarding the door.

The guard himself didn't see it as a fortune though. He cursed inwardly for having gotten this assignment as the noises of female grunts and groans coming from the basement filled his ears. He rolled his eyes as he pictured the source of these sounds in his mind: Anvari having his merry way with his 'breeding stock': the meekest, most submissive of cows the caribou had to offer - which, considering their race, was saying a lot. Anvari had even described it once while he was around on guard duty. What had he said? He 'paid attention to the body' in order to 'produce the strongest offspring' while paying little attention to the mind contained within, which Anvari, just like the other council members, considered only an afterthought in case of females anyway. It was a breeding philosophy so stupid that he somehow assumed Anvari himself was already a result of it - an assumption that was less than implausible.

The guard slumped his back against the wall, slowly sliding down it onto the floor. After all, why stand around when sitting was perfectly fine? If he was going to be miserable, he might as well be miserable in a somewhat comfortable position.

The stag closed his eyes, sighing to himself in frustration. It was going to be a loooooong night.

He slowly opened them, only to find himself staring directly into a sight that filled his mind with panic. His eyes flew open, his pupils narrowing into saucers as his gaze was returned by a pair of unfamiliar, glowing, icy blue eyes belonging to a white-robed figure that was not even inches away from his person.

It didn't take a genius to guess who, or what exactly was in front of him.

The stag was frozen with fear as he watched the creature in front of him reach out a finger to his throat. A barely audible stream of "nos" and "pleases" spilled from his lips as he stared down at the hand in front of him, the fingertip not even an inch away from his soft neck flesh.

He watched, paralyzed in terror, as the hand shook in front of him. It tried to thrust forward, repeatedly, into his throat. Yet, it could not. It was as if the finger was being held back by an unseen force. The guard's eyes wandered back to the assassin's own face, where an emotionless frown had turned into a frustrated scowl, which itself was now forming into an angry grimace.

For reasons that neither could fathom, the creature in front of the stag was powerless to act against him. Any other stag might have taken advantage of this strange coincidence, might have picked up a blade, reached out and choked it, something. This stag however, found himself unable to move, unable to anything about his would-be killer in front of them - despite his conscious mind telling him to do otherwise

The two were at an impasse, neither side unable to bring harm to one another, for reasons neither could understand. An eerie silence flooded the stag’s ears, drowning out the moans and groans below. Even his own breath and heartbeats were drowned out. This was despite the fact that his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would leap out of his chest at any moment. Their eyes remained locked on one another, neither side unable to look away, unable to process anything beyond each other's presence.

"Hey, Eadgil!" A loud voice suddenly rang in from below, breaking the silence. Both the assassin and the guard turned their heads towards the stairs. "Fetch my cane. I forgot it upstairs."

Eadgil turned his head back to the assassin one last time, who likewise did the same.

"Go ahead and kill him." Eadgil sighed. "I won't stop you."

The assassin's gaze remained fixated on his own. His hand however, lowered. Slowly, the robed creature backed away a couple of paces.

"Go..." It said slowly, without any hint of emotion. "...And live."

Eadgil gave a nod of acknowledgement. Quickly getting to his feet as quickly as he could, almost stumbling over himself as he ran out of the house.

"Eadgil, why is my cane not in my hand?" Anvari shouted angrily from below. "Ugh nevermind I'll get it myself. And when I do, I'll test it out on YOUR useless hide. Useless guards."

The sounds of heavy, angry footsteps hitting the wooden stairs filled the house as Anvari ascended. The assassin turned its attention to the top of the stairway, its intention more than clear for the creature that unknowingly rose to his doom.

Ponies. Ponies everywhere. Some sleeping. Some standing around sullenly. Not much had changed in so-called "warehouse 2" in the day since their failed escape. There were less crying females now, only because the caribou had been too busy in the last few hours to use them.

A large group of stallions and mares were huddled in a corner, away from the "secret" door, having a heated conversation.

"I say we try it again." A stallion with blue fur and a dark blue main proposed.

"Escape again?!" A stallion with a yellow mane and a red coat replied sarcastically. "Yeah, because that went so well last time."

"And besides, they have guards outside the other door now." Another one, with yellow fur and a green mane responded.

"So what?" The blue stallion shouted back in response. "It's just... What? Two, three, maybe four guards? Besides, they're weakened now, haven't you heard? The Ghost has been kicking their asses left and right-"

"The Ghost?" A mare with a yellow mane and a green coat asked curiously.

"Yeah yeah, the Ghost of Lindinsbarne. Or at least that's what everyone's callin'm." The blue stallion responded. "There's something out there, causing the caribou a whole lot of trouble. No one knows what it is. First they burned their ships, then set those burning beasts loose all over the place. Lot of these caribou fuckers got killed. And now they're all running scared. Haven't you guys been listening to anything lately?!"

He paused before continuing.

"Is it the same one that killed the blacksmith? And the guards?" A mare asked cautiously.

"Most likely." The stallion nodded. "And apparently a lot of important people belonging to the caribou too. Look, I don't know who or what this thing is, but I know this: the caribou are weaker now than they were a few days before. They're scared. Stretched thin. Last time might have been a fluke, but this time, I'm sure this time we'll-"

Suddenly, a loud noise from outside the front door interrupted their conversation and plans. Everyone's eyes turned towards it suddenly.

"Oh no." One of the mares suddenly cried.

"They're coming back." Said another stallion. "Probably to take another mare."

"Who're they gonna take this time?" A mare said worriedly. "Please don't let it be me, please don't-"

"It's not going to be anyone." A stallion huffed, standing in front of her.

"What are you doing?" The mare asked scaredly, grabbing his leg.

"I'm sick of all this. I'm sick of watching my wife, my daughter, my friends getting hauled off by these monsters to be raped, beaten, made to serve every sick and twisted whim these bastards have, and then dumped back in here when they're done having their way. I'm stick of standing here, doing nothing at all. I'm fighting this, and ain't no one gonna stop me!"

"But what if they-" The mare started.

"-I don't care. I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take this anymore!"

"Yeah, me too!" Another stallion shouted in agreement as he stomped over to them. They were soon joined by more and more, mares and stallions alike, as angry shouts of agreement filled the wooden structure.

Another noise by the door broke the cheers. Muffled talking could be heard outside, though no one could, let alone cared to make out what was being said.

"Okay everyone, once they open the door, we'll charge them. They can't fight all of us." the blue stallion ordered.

"And then?" A green coated stallion asked.

"We'll figure that out once we're outside." The blue stallion responded. "But first, get ready, here they come. Everyone get ready to ambush these fuckers when the door opens."

The doors let out a large creak as they slowly open.

"That's it!" The stallion screamed. "CHAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGEEE!!"

The warehouse erupted into a yell as all the ponies stampeded their way towards the door, ready to rip the stags on the other side limb from limb. Ready to extract their revenge in a fit of rage, not just on the stag unlucky enough to be on the other side, but on any that dared get in their way.

"WAIT, STOP!"

Their charge suddenly came to a halt as they clumsily tripped over one another, a lot of them unceremoniously tripping over each other. The villagers eyes went wide, not from fear, but from joy as they saw what was standing in the doorway.

Not stags, as they expected, but stallions. Stallions dressed in shining, royal armor regalia. One turned his head to the other.

"Inform Captain Armor that we've secured the hostages."

The sounds of battle filled the air outside. Clangs of metal meeting metal, of war cries and screams of pain and agony, of both pony and stag alike, were muffled only partially by the walls of Sunny's house. Her bedroom, to be specific. By some miracle, her house had escaped the rampaging warbeasts’ fires. This house currently played host to two occupants: Vestri, and his pet. The woman who, ironically, had owned this house before the calamities started.

Sunny found herself being roughly shoved into the closet by her master, her protests going unheard as the closet door was roughly closed behind her.

"Stay in there. That's an order." Vestri barked from the other side. "And don't come out until I come back. If you're lucky enough that I come back."

Sunny remained quiet, the councilstag taking this silence as acknowledgement to his command. He gave not even a grunt before he left, the mare could hear him running down the stairs and out the door.

She wept sadly. Everything had gone so well. She couldn't explain it, but... Vestri had made her so happy. He had been a little rough around the edges, sure, but all the times he'd made love to her, touched her. Put her in her place. Not to mention, Vestri was a councilstag. A position of great power, and she'd been his pet.

And then that damn... Ghost, came and ruined everything. Yes, she'd heard the other mares talk about it, from what little interaction she had with the others. She'd heard the misguided hopes about this "Ghost of Lindinsbarne" coming to save them all. She'd seen how they'd reacted, made things harder for the caribou, made things harder for each themselves. Made things harder for her.

A shadow creeping into the closet made her pop out of her pity party. Sunny tried to get a better look at it through the blinds, but stumbled back against the wall as she saw it approach.

Sunny tried to control her breathing, trying to give it the impression that nothing was there. That plan was ruined when it spoke four words, directly to her, through the door:

"The Vestri one. Where?"

It didn't take long for her to realize who this was. Or what, it was: The Ghost. The assassin that had been terrorizing the Caribou almost from the moment they landed here. The being that had caused them, and her, so much trouble.

She was afraid. Was it here for her? She knew it asked for Vestri, but since she was Vestri's pet - She had to tell the intruder something. But what? She debated telling him a lie, hoping to lead him away from Vestri's location, or simply telling him the truth. If she did the former, Vestri might be proud of her. But what if the creature could see through the lie? Would she be its next victim?

The sound of the closet door creaking quickly made up her mind.

"Vestri... He went off to find King Dainn at the mayor's office. If you hurry, you might catch him!"

Sunny waited, shivering, afraid of what the assassin might do if he, or she, didn't believe her. Not helped by the fact that it wasn't saying anything in response. On the other hand, it was making no further attempt to open the door.

The mare breathed a deep sigh of relief when small amounts of light started to creep back into the closet through the wooden blinds, something which could only have meant that the assassin was gone.

She just hoped that Vestri could forgive her for this, if he survived. If he didn't... Sunny didn't have any idea what she was going to do.

Dainn waited in 'his' office, standing forlornly in the hallway. his body geared and prepared in his run-covered kingly armor. His warhammer was at his back, ready to go in a moments notice.

Suddenly the door burst open. Dainn reached a hand for his hammer, ready to do battle with whoever was foolish enough to enter. The king set his hand down when he saw who had come.

"Vestri. You're still alive. That is good to know." The king remarked sarcastically. "I'm surprised you haven't ran."

Vestri's face bore a deranged, irrefutably malicious grin.

"Well, that was my first thought, but then I had a much better idea." Vestri snarled as he drew a sword he had been carrying.

"Treason now, Vestri?" Dainn remarked, still not drawing his own weapon.

"How ever did you guess?" Vestri responded with spiteful sarcasm. "Yes, I plan on deposing you, my Lord."

"And you believe the council will let you get away with this?" Dainn responded dryly as he raised an eyebrow.

"Council?" Vestri laughed. "What council?! Maybe you haven't noticed, my soon to be late King, but the other councillors are all dead!"

Said King remained silent.

"Oh yes, while you were sitting here twiddling your thumbs, the so-called 'Ghost of Lindinsbarne' has been very busy. Anvari, Sindri, that wood guy who's name I keep forgetting, they're all gone. All dead. You and I are the only ones left. And I intend to fix that soon enough." Vestri let out a insane laugh. "Besides, even if that wasn't the case, they'd be in no position to object anyway. Have you looked outside? The town is under attack."

"I've noticed." Dainn replied dryly.

"Yes, Celestia's royal pets. They showed up just a couple of minutes ago. Quite fortunate that I've beaten them here, really. Oh, your men are doing their best to fight them. Well, some of them anyway. Most of them are either surrendering or running off."

"Like you?" Dainn asked. "I don't exactly see you helping your fellow stags."

"Like me? That's funny, coming from you first of all, Mr. 'I'll stand here and wait for Celestia to show up'. And second of all, 'my fellow stags'?! Ha! Face it Dainn, stagkind is finished. We had a good run of it, but it's over now. It's every stag for himself now. And I intend to come out on top."

"So I'm correct to assume that you plan on killing me just to save your own useless hide?"

"Exactly!" Vestri yelled triumphantly, "When the cunt princesses and their minions get here, you'll be dead. By my hand. For you see, I am the Ghost of Lindinsbarne! The saboteur that's been undermining us from the start!"

"You? The assassin?" Dainn scoffed. "I find that prospect quite impossible. After all, how did you know about Etadys's lichdom, or how to combat it?

"Etady's a Lich?!" Vestri gasped. "I... I always knew there was something off about the Master of Bones, but even I-" Vestri stopped himself, and shook his head. "Oh, you misunderstand. Of course I'm not actually the Ghost. That's ridiculous, even you know that. But they..." The stag pointed his sword towards one of the windows, while tilting his head in the same direction. "They don't know that, now do they?"

Vestri laughed again as he continued.

"I'm going to tell them a little tale." Vestri waved his free hand around as he spoke. "Tell them I've been secretly plotting against you from the very beginning. About how I had big plans to reform the caribou into a nicer, more female-obedient race. But I failed." He said with an obviously fake sadness in his voice. "And so, seeing how they, and you, wouldn't change your ways, I set about doing the only thing I could do: destroy them from the inside, betraying my... 'kin'... in the worst way possible. All so that they wouldn't be in any position to fight the 'dear, sweet, true princesses of the world' when they came to take back the city. It'll make a great story, no? Perhaps I'll even make a bit of money selling it as one of those trashy books you love so much."

Vestri gave a little grunt at that last part.

"Not that I'll need it, mind you. With your death, I'll be hailed as a hero to these ponies." He put his hand to his chest. "I'll live as a noble, the one good stag. Safe from consequences. Safe from this assassin. A hero to these gullible little ponies. I'll live like, dare I say, a King?" He put his hand down. "And you... You'll just be the dead boogeyman. The villain slayed by the defector from decadence. The monster that enslaved the innocent widdle ponies and tried to conquer all of Equestria, only to fail in the end by his own man. The perfect plan, is it not?"

Vestri suddenly felt his left leg buckle beneath him, forcing him to one leg. Before he could even register what was going on, the other followed suit. He hit the floor face first, pain traveling up his snout as it met the wood below. The stag flushed it out of his mind, instinctively rolling onto his back.

Just in time to see a finger strike out at his throat, pressing hard against it. It withdrew back to its source just as quickly as it had lashed out against him.

"No." The finger's owner responded to Vestri's proposition in an emotionless tone.

The would-be traitor felt his throat tighten, seemingly of its own accord. Instinctively, he grabbed his neck with his free hand as his mouth hung wide open, trying desperately to get some much needed air into his lungs. His body wouldn't let him.

Desperate, he lashed out with his other hand, to the figure kneeling over him. It was one step ahead though, and merely grabbed it in response. Vestri tried to wriggle his hand free, tried to move his legs, anything. But it was all for not. He grew weaker and weaker as his body was starved for precious oxygen. The stag's vision began to blur, and then to darken, his frantic body movements grew weaker and weaker as the life drained from Vestri's eyes. In mere moments, the king's lieutenant, and his treasonous plots and plans, were no more.

The King, meanwhile stood and stared at the scene in complete disbelief, finding himself unable to lift a hand or hoof to either help his would-be killer, nor to combat the assassin, or even think of doing such a thing in the first place.

He watched as the creature, barely over half his own height, rise from its kill. The king's stare was returned with its own. The king tightened his grip on own weapon, shifting his stance and readying himself, preparing to do battle with the cloaked creature in front of him.