Story 1 - Nightmare Night
And here’s the first part of Ponyslayer, based on Geheimnisnacht by William King, the first short story in Gotrek & Felix The First Omnibus. Games Workshop/Black Library are the owners of that, obviously, so any Warhammer stuff is disclaimer-ed as they own it.
I’ve tried to not make it too dark, at least until the end. This is only really a short work I felt like writing. I might continue it with an entirely original story or another that is (very) loosely based on one of the other short stories.
This hasn’t been beta-read, because I’m not sure I can be bothered and Merujea has chapter 8 of Justice Itself with her at the moment and no one wants that slowed down, do they?
Anyway, enjoy the read and try not to take it too seriously.
Note that I'm just using 'Belle' as a last name for Rarity since there's nothing else to go on and I feel she deserves one for this.
***
Ponyslayer – Nightmare Night
Pinkie Pie – Mountain Earth Pony Paraspriteslayer
A Mountain Earth Pony from the World’s Edge Mountains, Pinkie Pie is part of the Slayer Cult. She has committed some great shame and seeks to regain the honour of her family by dying in valiantly in battle, preferably against some great monster.
Or at least she’s supposed to. When she was sworn in, no one was entirely certain if she understood exactly what she was meant to be swearing on. Since she seemed to have the general idea – wear mane in a Mohawk, go out and fight big monsters in a suicidal fashion and don’t come back until something has gutted her – they simply decided to shrug and hope for the best.
She’s....not doing a very good job on the last part.
Impressed by Rarity’s eloquence and creativity when insulting the new uniform of the city guard, Pinkie saved her and convinced her to Pinkie Promise to travel with Pinkie and record her great deeds. She is fully confident Rarity will be at her side for a long time.
After all, nopony breaks a Pinkie Promise.
Nopony.
Rarity Belle – Imperial Unicorn dressmaker/fugitive
An Imperial Unicorn from Canterlot, Rarity was living the high life. Nobles and wealthy merchants were beginning to commission dresses from her and she was on her way up in the world.
Unfortunately, a noble who had the foalishness to attract the Emperor’s ire had her attire belittled by his Imperial Majesty. While the noble managed to escape punishment, Rarity’s customers took notice that the dress was one of hers and business quickly dried up.
Impoverished and unable to make ends meet, Rarity made a mistake herself involving a captain of the city guard who fancied himself something of an eye for fashion and her criticism of his new uniform. Were it not for Pinkie’s timely arrival the fashionista would have ended her days in a dungeon until she admitted the captain’s fashion sense was superior to hers – so in other words until she died of old age or sickness.
High on adrenaline and the thrill of escaping the guard, Rarity made her greatest mistake; Pinkie Promising to follow Pinkie wherever she went and record her valiant deeds and, hopefully, mighty death. Her hereto unknown talent for swordsponyship is certainly helpful.
***
‘After the terrible events and simply nightmarish ‘adventures’ in Canterlot – oh how I miss the royal city already! – my peculiar companion and I fled southwards, following no path more certain than that chosen for us by blind chance. I had the foresight to acquire a map during our departure, but that brutish Mountain Earth Pony- no, I must not say such things. For all her...’eccentricities’ she really is sweet dear whom I must admit saved my life half-a-dozen times.
Let us just say that while I went behind a tree to *ahem* deal with some personal business I foalishly left the map in her hooves. There was some luck when those bandit oafs thought to jump her, and I admit I never thought an origami sword could do so much damage. The end result was, to our misfortune, a rather too-stained for use map.
I shall not pretend this time was not difficult and often fear-filled for me. At every turning, it seemed, we stood in imminent danger of arrest and either imprisonment or execution. I saw sheriffs in every tavern and bounty hunters behind every bush. If the Paraspriteslayer suspected that things might have been otherwise she may have very well said so but there is only so much of her chatter one could endure before one has to tune it out or go mad.
To one as ignorant of the true state of our legal system as I then was, it seem all too possible – likely even! – that the entire apparatus of our mighty and extensive state might be bent to the apprehension of two fugitives – ugh, I simply cannot stand to think of my glamorous self as such a thing – as ourselves. I suppose it might have been a better world if those sheriffs and bounty hunters had been real. Though I now know the reasons why the land was in such an unfortunate state I had no such comfort during that tumultuous time in my life.
The nature of our land was to become more apparent to me one dark evening after boarding a southbound stagecoach, on what is perhaps the most ill-omened night in our entire calender...’
– From My Travels With Pinkie Pie, Vol. II,
by Miss Rarity Belle (Canterlot Press, 2012)
***
“Those ponies sure were grumpy-pants alright. Especially that silly old filly.” Pinkamena Diane Pie, better known as Pinkie Pie, muttered with a pout.
“Pinkie, darling, I do have to agree with them that perhaps trying to throw a Nightmare Night party in a moving stagecoach was not the most...brilliant of your ideas.” Rarity Belle said, biting back her annoyance. Ladies did not, after all, let everypony know how thoroughly peeved they were. “As things are we are fortunate that they merely kicked us off. Although I find their manners were most lacking even then.”
The pink earth pony simply giggled, her mohawk of puffy hair jiggling. It had offended Rarity to even look at that war crime against fashion, but Pinkie could not be swayed. Every morning, she would take her still odd hair and smooth the sides so that it formed a mohawk of sorts. Add to it the hideous geometric tattoos reaching from Pinkie’s head down her chest to her forelegs against the pink fur and Rarity found herself suffering the occasional nightmares.
Rarity shook her head, fabulous mane swishing through the air. She could see that one of her companion’s odd moods was coming on. There would be no sense from Pinkie and arguing would simply leave her brain tied in a knot. Better to focus on keeping her lovely cloak, a very fashionable piece that matched her mane and kept her warm in the dastardly cold, clean as they trekked down through the forest road.
She levitated a handkerchief up to her nose, delicately blowing into it and setting Pinkie off giggling again for some reason. Her cloak was drawn a tad tighter to ward off the cold air. Luna and Woona, the greater and lesser moons respectively, were out early and Woona was giving off a faint greenish glow. Never a good sign.
“I believe I have a fever coming on, Pinkie dear.” Rarity said. The Paraspriteslayer looked up at her and giggled once more in amusement. In the last rays of the dying sun Pinkie’s coat was transformed into a rather less fun colour and the light glinted off another reminder of the earth pony’s odd lifestyle choice.
One would not guess it judging from Pinkie Pie’s manner, but the tattoos and hairstyle were hints to those who knew of the Slayer cult.
The enormous single bladed axe on her back was a bit of a giveaway as well, though when Pinkie broke into her bizarre hop it always seemed to make the viewer suspect the axe was a fake.
The things once inhabiting Canterlot’s sewers were certainly surprised when it turned out to be real. For all of the two seconds before she was finished.
Rarity shuddered at the memory. She was lucky her cloak had magic to prevent staining, but her coat certainly did not and blood was a terrible thing to have to clean out. That smell!
“You should eat more cupcakes.” Pinkie suddenly spoke up. “I eat cupcakes all the time and the only fever I ever get is disco fever!” she frowned. “Wait, that’s not right....”
They came to halt as Pinkie pulled a book from nowhere and flipped through the first few pages. Rarity glanced at the cover and managed to read ‘Gotrek & Felix The First Omni-’ before it was whipped away into nothingness.
Pinkie coughed loudly as she had seen somepony do once before a speech. It was a lovely speech, even if a few heads exploded at the first word of unspeakable horror, and such a shame that the speaker was the cultist Pinkie had been hunting.
“The only fever I feel this eve is the battle-fever! It sings in my head.” She cried jubilantly before letting out another giggle which rather ruined the effect.
“I’m glad there’s something making noise in there at least.” Rarity muttered to herself, deciding to ignore her companion’s actions and keep walking.
Pinkie pouted, watching her friend trot away with her head held high. “Awww, but I thought I did it just like him!” she whined, for just a moment not insanely happy.
Like a true madmare, however, the world’s efforts to stop her were quickly rebuffed and Pinkie was bouncing in Rarity’s wake, giant axe sitting serenely on her back ignoring physics.
Pinkie always preferred to think of them as ‘suggestions’ rather than laws, regardless of what the engineer-guildponies said.
***
“Co~oooommme~ out!” Pinkie sang, her voice far louder then Rarity wanted to deal with.
She winced each time Pinkie’s undeniably loud voice filled the forest.
“Darling, please stop. Tonight of all nights I should think caution is the key, hmm?” Rarity asked, desparetly wishing for some blessed silence.
No such luck.
“Come on anypony! I’m waiting to pla~aaay~!”
Rarity froze, worried she had heard a growl from the forest. She gulped. She had heard tales about what lurked in these forests and had no wish to attract their attention. ‘Why oh why did the City Guard have to take my suggestions as incitement? If only they had listened to me like proper gentlecolts I never would have needed saving and I would not be stuck with this madpony!’
After nothing save Pinkie’s continued shouting for any monsters to come out and kill them Rarity let out a sigh of relief.
“Ohh, I know what’ll bring those nasty monsters out!” Pinkie had a hoof around Rarity’s shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “A song!”
“...a song?” Rarity asked weakly. She had seen one of Pinkie’s songs just after she agreed to accompany her and again in the sewers.
“Yepple doodle dandy! A song!” the pink pony was practically bouncing. She opened her mouth wide, chest widening as she sucked in a deep breath and-
Rarity held up a hoof, a frown creasing her immaculate features. “Pinkie dear, hold on a moment please. I believe I hear...hooves?” Her ears twitched slightly.
Pinkie lifted a hoof to her ear and smiled. “Ohh, you’re right! I can hear them! They have a coach too, I can hear the wheels!” she squealed happily. “This means I can have a Nightmare Night Coach Party at last!”
Feeling a headache coming on, Rarity was about to respond when the source of the sounds appeared. She shrieked and leapt off to the side. Pinkie stayed in place, a grin on her face and hoof waving madly as the ominous black coach and its dark as night coach-ponies came thundering down the road towards her.
Rarity facehoofed and leapt again, tackling Pinkie out of the way just in time. They hit the ground and rolled a few feet. By the time they came to a stop the black coach was far down the road and nearly out of sight.
“Are you crazy?” Rarity hissed at Pinkie, frantically cleaning her cloak and coat. “They were about to run you over.”
The Paraspriteslayer let out a short laugh. “Don’t be such a silly filly, Rares. What sort of meanie-head would run over another pony for no good reason?”
“The sort of meanie-head who nearly did- oh, forgot it.” Rarity moaned, massaging her forehead. “Please, let us just get-”
“Get after them!” Pinkie interrupted her with a shout. “They must be in a rush, must have been going to a Nightmare Night party! Ohh, if we hurry we can join in! That’s a great idea!”
She took off; bouncing down the dirt road in what was for her a sprint. Rarity’s mouth dropped open in an unlady-like gap before she regained control of herself.
‘Remember, Rarity, a lady does not ‘gap’ like some dirty Diamond Dog.’ the former-fashion pony thought bitterly.
“Hurry up Rarity, you don’t want to miss out on the party do you?” Pinkie called from a ways up the road.
‘...even if she must deal with an insane pony with a deathwish.’ Rarity felt one of her eyes twitching.
***
“Ding dong!” Pinkie chirped brightly, staring at the boarded up inn door cheerfully. When this did nothing, she tried something different. “Dong ding!”
Sighing, Rarity lifted a hoof and knocked. She glanced disdainfully at the door, annoyed at the staff keeping them waiting. She had already checked the stable and cart-yard on the side of the small inn for sign of the black stagecoach that had nearly hit them.
It was the largest building of the few that were collected at the crossroads, and like the rest had no lights visible.
Finally, a voice answered. “G-Go away! Begone, hideous d-demons!”
Rarity lifted a hoof to her chest, shocked. “Why, I never! Of all the nerve, to call a mare of my refined taste such a filthy thing! Pinkie!” she growled, glancing at her companion.
“Yepsie?” Pinkie grinned back at her.
“Break down the door this instant so I might educate these tasteless oafs on how to treat a lady!” the unicorn demanded, pointing fiercely at the door.
“What?” the hapless door owner cried in fear.
By chance, two brain cells that shared a wavelength collided inside Pinkie’s head. She scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Wait...you want me to break down their door?”
“Yes!” confirmed Rarity.
The pony behind the door began to shake hard enough to shake the door with him.
“To prove we’re not demons?” Pinkie asked an expression of almost painful deliberation on her face. She wasn’t what you’d call stupid, unless you were a very mean pony, but thinking in a straight line for more than a few seconds was almost agonisingly boring to her.
“Yes!” repeated Rarity without blinking.
Pinkie stared blankly for a few seconds.
The door was quivering now, and the sounds of a pony trying to rapidly unlock half-a-dozen locks that had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
“Okie dokie lokie!” the Slayer nodded, bouncing over to the door. Rearing up she pulled her massive axe out, slinging it over her shoulder.
“W-wait!” the unfortunate – and by this point that was the most accurate word for him after terrified – pony screamed, now rushing madly through the process of opening his door. He was beginning to question why he hadn’t gotten more hoof friendly locks. “I’m opening the do-”
“Now Pinkie! Show these brutes-” Rarity spat at the same time.
Wood splintered, Pinkie’s runic axe biting through the flimsy door. The pony insider screamed again, voice high with fright.
Reason managed to worm its way into Rarity’s mind at that point. “Pinkie dear, I, uh, do think I might have been a bit hasty-”
Pinkie let out a fierce battle cry and hit the door again.
Flinching at the shrapneal flying past, Rarity tried again. “Darling, that really is enou-”
“Yaaaah!” cried Pinkie, a third strike shattering the topmost hinge.
Rarity stared with wide eyes at the door now hanging open, lopsided and limp. ‘This door is made of oak. Six inches of solid oak...with metal banding...and Pinkie just turned it into kindle...’ she shuddered slightly. Where the Paraspriteslayer got her prodigious strength Rarity would never know.
Dropping back to all fours, her axe hanging in its strap across her back once more, Pinkie turned to Rarity with a smile. “There ya go, bestest buddy!”
She Looked into Pinkie’s eyes and gulped. “Err, yes, thank you oh so much darling. Whatever would I do without you?”
Pinkie giggled. “Oh, don’t be silly! I’m just happy to help my rememberermemberancerer....” she trailed off, mind and tongue contorting as she lost control of the word.
Rarity patted her on the shoulder. “Well, good job I suppose. I’ll just, uh, go see who might be in tonight hmm?” with that she hastily trotted inside, glancing over her shoulder nervously when Pinkie began to follow her.
‘It will be alright.’ she told herself. ‘Pinkie is perfectly nice, so long as I absolutely do not think about what she did to those things in the sewers- oh, horseapples!’ Rarity’s eyelids fluttered for a moment and it took almost all her will power not to collapse dramatically as she remembered the sewers. It took the little bit left not to vomit.
‘My poor dress, so horribly, horribly stained!’ Rarity recalled sadly.
Stepping over the ruined door, Rarity was greeted by the cowering form she assumed the voice belonged to. Behind him lay the interior of the small inn she realised they had just invaded while looking for the inn.
Opps.
“P-please, don’t k-kill us!” he begged.
Rarity flushed, thinking that maybe she had overreacted...just a tad.
“Kill you?” Pinkie giggled, which didn’t seem to reassure him. “Why would we kill you? We’re not super-duper meanie-pants.”
“Y-you broke down my door....” he pointed a hoof at the limply hanging door.
Pinkie turned and frowned. “No...I improved it!” she declared with a cheer. “Now ponies can come and visit a~aaallllll~ day and tonight and you can have lots of fun and makes new friends to play games with, ohh what sort of games are you gonna play? Can I play? I wanna play! I know, we can all play!”
Humming cheerfully, Pinkie bounced past the confused pony to look around the inn. She bounced over to a pair of merchants, their flanks adorned with a sack spilling silver bits and a set of mercantile scales respectively.
“Hiya! I’m Pinkie Pie but you can call me Pinkie! What are your names?”
“Err...” Bit-sack mark trailed off awkwardly.
“Wow!” she wowed in response, hooves jumping to her cheeks. “I’ve never met anypony named ‘Ur’ before! What about you?” she turned to the other.
Scale-flank’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Um...”
“Wowies! Ur and Um! I’ve never met ponies with names like yours before! I’m Pinkie Pie, but I already told you that so I guess you know already! Silly me!” Pinkie backed up for a second, frowning. The merchant ponies exchanged worried glances.
Without warning, she was suddenly between with her hooves around their shoulders. “You two don’t look you’re having a fun Nightmare Night at all! I hate to see frowny-ponies, so let’s turn those frowns upside down!” cheered the deathseeking pony warrior energetically.
‘Ur’ and ‘Um’ looked between the strange mare’s extremely, some might say insanely, joyful smile, the very, very large axe on her back and what used to be the solid oak door.
They grinned in sync in frightened cheer, face muscles straining at the frantic urgings of their survival instincts.
Ignoring her companion, Rarity pulled the fallen door-pony to his feet with her magic. “I do apologise for my reaction, sir. I have had a simply frightful few weeks and may have....taken your words a bit personally.” She said sorrowfully.
“O-Ok...” he whimpered. “Just, plea-”
“Oh, it has been so dreadful!” Rarity wailed, a hoof on her forehead dramatically.
He stared at her with wide eyes, saying nothing. He floated in front of her, apparently forgotten in the grip of her magic.
“Dungeons full of rats of all things, sewers of even BIGGER rats with knives, beastmares in the forest, oh it was all so horribly violent and dirty!” she went on without noticing. Rarity sniffed sadly. “Worse of all, do you know what was worse. Of. All?” the former-fashionista demanded, shaking him slightly.
“N-no.” Whinnied the pony in distress.
“Don’t ask me to say, I won’t!” she cried, turning her head away with a dramatic toss of her hair.
“O-Ok.” He nodded with some desperation.
Rarity sniffed again. “Oh, alright, if you insist!”
He blinked a few times. “Um, but I...wha-”
“Those uniforms!” now she snarled, shaking him once again. Rarity’s eyes burned with rage. “Those horrible, disgusting fashion disasters that do not ever deserve to be called ‘uniforms’! How dare the brute call them uniforms! His oafish reaction to my understandable criticism was most ungentlecoltly!”
“R-Ri-ight-t.” The unfortunate pony stuttered, although to be fair to him this was more because of the magical shaking rather than his own fear now.
“So” Pinkie pulled her new friends closer into a group hug as she nattered away. “Why aren’t you celebrating Nightmare Night? I love Nightmare Night parties, with scary costumes and sugar and sugar and-”
“Have my salt-cube!” ‘Um’ shouted, desparete to shut her up. He shoved the salt in Pinkie’s direction. “Just please, stop! Celestia’s mane, I’d rather get sacrificed by those Moon cultists then endure this any lo-” he fell silent, suddenly realising the room had gone quiet save for the thump of a pony falling out of magical levitation to the floor.
A look of horror had come to Rarity’s face. “No. Nononono.”
A look of surprised glee had come to Pinkie’s face. “Yay!” she leaned closer to ‘Um’. “Oh, Moon cultists on Nigthmare Night! My finicky nose earlier knew we were going to have a moon-lit battle tonight, goodie.”
“Wait, what? You...you’re not suggesting we actually go and-” Rarity gulped, unable to finish her own sentence. “No no no no no no.”
Pinkie grinned. “Yepa-roony!” she confirmed before looking to the merchants. “So, where can we find those meany-moons?”
They exchanged one more surreptitious glance and neither had to tell the other anything.
They couldn’t tell her fast enough and less than a minute later Pinkie was bouncing out the door.
Rarity trotted in her wake, head down as she fought off depression.
The pony Rarity had been ‘tormenting’ took a deep breath and hesitantly said “Uh, aren’t you going to follow her?”
“I expect so, yes.” Rarity nodded reluctantly.
His tongue ran over his lips nervously. “Well, if you’re going there...my wife, she’s gone missing. Tonight of all nights. If, if you really are going to the cultists...” he trailed off awkwardly.
Rarity looked up as understanding dawned. “If they’ve taken her, I’m positively certain we can get her back.” She comforted him.
He nodded gratefully and a sigh of relief burst from his throat. He lifted a hoof, taking some from around his neck. “Please, she had- has the twin of this amulet. It was...it was a wedding gift from my father.” He dropped a small pendant of beaten iron, shaped into the sun and four rays of light symbol of Celestia.
Pinkie’s head appeared through the door. “Come on Rarity, we have DOOM to find!” she shouted, grabbing her companion and pulling her outside.
Everypony in the inn stared at the door for another two minutes before breathing in relief when the crazy ponies didn’t return. The pony who had denied them entry set to work getting something over the door, not willing to leave it bare on Nightmare Night even as he prayed to the Sun for his wife’s return.
***
“Ohh, Rarity, look! Hoofprints!” Pinkie squealed in delight. “Somepony must have gone this way and- *gasp* lookie lookie lookie!”
“Yes Pinkie, I’m looking.” Rarity reassured her companion. “It is a...line in the mud?” she guessed.
Pinkie rolled her eyes dramatically. “A coach wheel left it! And you know what that means!”
“...oh no.” Any hope of convincing the Slayer that venturing down a dirt road into the middle of the Marewald Forest was a bad idea vanished.
“Yep! The stagecoach-“
“The one which nearly ran you over, remember dear?” Interjected Rarity without much hope.
“-heading to the party must have gone this way!” Pinkie went on, either not noticing or ignoring Rarity’s comment. The Parasprite Slayer drew in a deep breath, her eyes going wide. “Wait a minute! That means they weren’t going to a party at all! They were cultists!” she roared.
Rarity took a step back, just in case. The pink pony puffed perilously, her breath short and rapid.
“I thought there was going to be a party!” she bellowed, Pinkie’s wrathful voice booming through the dark forest.
“Uh, Pinkie dear-” Rarity gulped and looked around in fear. Did something move behind that bush?
Pinkie ignore her. “A party! Nopony tricks Pinkie with a fake party! Nopony!” her voice reached a dreadful climax and she tore through the forest, axe in hoof. Branches were swept aside by the Slayer, bushes smashed apart and anything that dared not flee was crushed beneath her rage-filled pink hooves by her deadly bounce.
Jaw slack, Rarity took a few seconds to decide whether to follow the madmare into the forest likely filled to bursting with monsters and insane Moon Cultists. Moon Cultists on the night of their dark patron no less.
Then she thought about how likely Pinkie was to come back out and what she would do if Rarity broke her ‘Pinkie Promise’.
“Darling, wait for me!”
She caught up with Pinkie eventually, the sinister moonlight illuminating highlighting the pink warpony.
“Come on Rarity, I have ponies to slay!” Pinkie whined, bouncing in place. Her mowhawk shook stiffly and the blue tattoos on her face were warped oddly by her pout; completely at odds with her previous image of unstoppable rage.
“I’m coming, dear, but please I’m still not used to all this running abou-” huffed the former dressmaker.
“No time!”
“Why are you so determined to get us killed?” Rarity wailed when Pinkie began to drag her by the hoof.
For the second time that night Pinkie’s expression became deadly serious and Rarity reflected that it was two times too many.
“A Slayer oath is super-duper sacred special.” Began Pinkie, voice at odds with the words ‘super-duper’. “A Mountain Earth Pony who has committed a crime so great, so shameful, the only way to get their honour back to is to die in valiant combat with the big-meanies of the world.”
That Rarity knew, but still she was drawn in by the reverence in Pinkie’s voice. “My word.” She murmured. “If you don’t mind me asking, Pinkie dear, what exactly did you do?”
“That...” Pinkie leaned in, her voice a whisper.
Rarity bent her ears towards Pinkie, her expression rapt.
“Is a secret!” bouncing away, Pinkie grinned at the dumbstruck expression on Rartiy’s face. “But seriously, don’t ask. I’m not meant to tell anypony. If I do...” she wore a mask of exaggerated seriousness and drew a hoof across her throat significantly.
This was rather spoiled when Pinkie giggled afterwards. Or perhaps made it worse. Rarity was undecided when her ears picked up the sound of chanting...
“Is that...” she muttered, looking in the direction of the sound.
“Yay! I was wondering how long it would take you to hear them.” Pinkie slung a hoof over Rarity’s shoulders and pulled her into the shrubs.
They crept through the forest quietly and the sound of chanting grew. Trees became sparser and sparser but tall bushes provided more than enough cover. They came into the clearing, concealed from the dancing, chatting ponies in dark robes. The Moon Cultists conducted their ritual among tall standing stones circling around a stone dais.
A pony in slightly more ornate robes of midnight blue, an expensive shade to Rarity’s expert eye, came forth. “On this night, the Nightmare grows strong once more! Here and now, within the darkest reaches of the Marewald Forests-”
“What a silly filly. This isn’t the darkest reach.” Pinkie giggled only to find a white hoof clapped over her muzzle.
The cult mare continued her speech, placing a bundle of clothes on the dais. “- we shall give unto Nightmare Moon a sacrifice that she might give us her blessing! With our dedication her strength will return as the stars begin their march to free our Lady!” From beneath her robes the mare drew a long, curved dagger. Its edge glowed with dark blue runes that seemed formed from linked crescents.
Rarity couldn’t stop gasp when the bundle of cloths squirmed.
“The Evernight comes!” the cultist mare cried, sacrificial blade held high above the filly. Dark mists appeared around the clearing, blocking the light of Luna but not its smaller sibling. Within the mists a tall, winged shadow appeared, an unusually slender mare shape that reared as though in victory.
“The Evernight comes!” the cultists echoed loudly.
“No!”
The cultists lost their rhythm at the loud, sharp interruption and the cult leader paused before she could swing down the knife.
Pinkie and Rarity burst from the bushes, weapons at the ready. A faint glow of magic surrounded the hilt of Rarity’s sword, drawn from beneath the flap of her cloak and Pinkie’s axe glowed with a brilliant light as its runes lit up in defiance of the dark power gathering in the clearing.
“Intruders!” screamed the cult mare. “My brothers and sisters, they seek to interrupt the ritual and deny our glorious Lady of the Night her sacrifice! Kill them!”
The cultists charged forward with the confidence of fanatics, drawing crude weapons from beneath their robes as they called out to their dark goddess. Even in the dark Rarity could see the insane certainty in their eyes, confident that they were the chosen of Nightmare Moon. What had they to fear of two little ponies?
Pinkie’s wordless roar came as a surprise to them, as did the way she leapt into battle. Her rune-axe swung and the first pony to reach them fell to the ground, his head sailing away from a single great slash.
Standing on her rear-hooves, Pinkie’s usually exuberant face was now the terrible aspect of some old god of war. She caught the strike of a sickle on the edge of her axe and simply smashed through it into the cultist’s face. A spray of red filled the air but it missed the Slayer, darting back when another cultist leapt from the side with a rusted sword. The cultist passed through the space Pinkie had occupied and came out the other side without a head.
While not a deathseeking Mountain Earth Pony with a giant magic axe Rarity held her own. Though she could grip the hilt with her hoof like Pinkie – a not-understood ability common to all ponies but nopony wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth so it was generally left alone –instead she held it with magic as was usual among Unicorns. She lacked the raw power to keep levitating the slender blade for long if she grasped the entire weapon.
Rarity had found a talent for swordsponyship in the sewers beneath Canterlot and Pinkie had been all too happy to spar with her to refine it. Holding her magic delicately around the hilt she fended off an attack by a mare with a pitchfork, batting the make-shift weapon to the side and jerking her head up to speed her sword’s movement. The cultist stumbled back clutching at her throat.
The pink-whirlwind of destruction that was Pinkie Pie kept most of the cultists occupied, leaving Rarity with a relatively clear path to the dais and the enraged cult leader.
“What are you doing? Kill the meddling foals!” screamed the robed mare, apparently not noticing the dismembered hoof flying past her.
Gritting her teeth Rarity charged, sword hovering in front of her. She swept it at a cultist that tried to block her path, the blade darting between teeth of a pitchfork to ram into the attacking pony’s eye. Wrenching her weapon free with a tug of her head and magic Rarity didn’t slow in her sprint.
The cult leader became aware of Rarity a few seconds before she arrived and managed to deflect the first attack with her dagger. Growling, a glow appeared from the depths of her hood and a cleaver slid out from under the cult robe.
“I’ll send you screaming to Nightmare Moon myself!” shrieked the murderous mare of the moon.
“The day I let an uncouth brute like you touch a hair of a filly’s head is the day I wear colours that don’t match!” spat back Rarity, her eyes narrowing. For a second her gaze darted to the side to make sure Pinkie had the rest of the cultists occupied.
The leader smirked and struck, her cleaver cutting a swath through the air. Catching the movement in the corner of her eye Rarity ducked, letting it go past her. Her own sword lifted and thrust at the leader who quickly enveloped her whole cleaver in magic to pull it back in time to bounce away the attack.
“The Moon’s Shadow has blessed me!” she laughed madly. “You’ll die here, your blood feeding the stars on their journey!” her cleaver chopped heavily as she covered its entire length in magic. Rarity’s magic crept up further along her sword to keep up but it was draining her more and more.
They exchanged blows, Rarity edging to the side and forcing the mad mare away from the dais. Her sword darted around with agility the heavy cleaver couldn’t match and Rarity kept it between them so her foe couldn’t attack her without risking herself.
A shallow cut on the leader’s fetlock was the first wound scored, a followed by a slice around her neck. Every time the cleaver’s speed began to slow as the strain of keeping its entirely length in the cultist’s magical grip showed, each movement tiring her more and more.
The leader hissed angrily, moving back slightly. “The Evernight cannot be stopped, not by you or any of the Sun’s mindless herd.”
Rarity sniffed haughtily, a condescending expression on her face. “Darling, really, if you’re self-conscious about your looks don’t you thinking bringing eternal darkness is a bit drastic.” She smirked. “Although I can see why, those robes really don’t flatter your figure at all. I can see why you have trouble looking good with flanks so...oh, how to put it delicately....moon-sized.”
“Gah!” the cult leader let out a angered cry. “I’m going to kill you!” her cleaver lifted up, hefted by an invisible hoof, and went flying at Rarity in a simple but brutal head on attack meant to strike the sword and either break it or knock away.
Seeing her moment Rarity’s magic encapsulated her entire sword and it rocketed forward. Her eyes met the cultist’s and saw insanity, disturbingly reminiscent of the first time Rarity had looked into Pinkie’s during battle. Rarity’s confidence fell as she realised why.
Even as Rarity’s sword bypassed the cleaver and launched itself at the cultist the ponderous meat-blade turned towards the dais next to her, thrown from the magic grasp rather then controlled.
“No!” Rarity leapt, her shoulder slamming into the cleaver. Pain flashed along her side but the cleaver bounced off into the grass.
The cultist put all her rage and insanity into a final shriek of defiance that lasted until Rarity’s sword lanced through her mouth into her brain.
The cultist mare fell to the ground, her blood soaking the dead grass. Gazing at the corpse for a moment, Rarity pondered such madness. Whoever she was, that mare had been willing to die to murder an innocent foal.
Speaking of the child, Rarity looked to the dais. The sounds of violence had upset the infant, who had been whinnying in distress. Its mouth sucked at the air hungrily and Rarity felt such pity for it. She doubted the foal had been given away freely unless it was one of the cultist’s and she had no wish to dwell on that. If the foal had been taken from its parents by force, however, there was little chance they still lived.
Cleaning her blade on the cultist’s robe, Rarity caught sigh of something glistening in the moonlight around her neck. She gently pulled it out, biting back a sigh at the sight.
A pendant to match the one the inn keeper had shown her.
Putting her thoughts away, Rarity slid her sword into the sheath under her cloak and returned the pendant to its owner. Gathering the foal and the cloth wrapping it in her magic she glanced up in time to see the last cultist dispatched, Pinkie’s bringing the axe down in a heavy chop that sheared a skull through the middle.
“Aww.” Pinkie whined loudly, kicking a head into the forest. “They weren’t much of a challenge.” She sounded insulted.
Rarity fought back the urge to vomit. “Let’s go.” She whispered.
“Back to the inn?” asked Pinkie cheerfully.
“No.” Rarity shook her head. “No.”
***
A local tale would, in time, come to tell of the foal found on the steps of the temple of Celestia in Hartscoach. It was wrapped in a bloodied cloak of fine make, wool dyed a rich purple with a small pouch of gold and a pednant of Celestia’s Sun around its neck.
They would tell another tale, of how the innkeeper’s wife was found slain in some ritual to the Dark Mare of the Moon. All agreed it must have been a terrible sacrifice, for the bodies had been torn apart as if by the axe of a daemon.
***
Hope you enjoyed that. Bit dark at the end, but meh otherwise I hope it wasn’t too bad.
If anyone thinks I should add the ‘Dark’ tag I will, I tend to be put off by and on the whole most of the story isn’t dark just a bit at the end. What the hell, putting it in anyway just in case. Let me know if its not needed.
Anyone who has read the book:
I need help deciding whether to have Applejack in place of Ulrika (minus the romance with Felix’s replacement or Max’s) or make her a Slayer in place of Snorri. I like the entire of her being an actual serious Slayer rather then the generally whimsical one Pinkie is, plus it makes Snorri’s replacement smart.
Either way, comment with what you liked and what you didn’t like. If anyone has read the actual books as well and wants to offer a suggestion for character placement, go ahead.
