The Dragon's Hoard (SCRAPS)

by Bass Kick

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Adventure
Length: 403

Spike goes on a journey to walk the path of the lost Dragon Kingdom.

Dragons had once been intertwined in Equestrian society, until a mysterious downfall known as the Final Migration engulfed their legacy in a dark blizzard. Nothing of their grand past was left. Thousands of years later, a wingless drake is born into the care of Celestia's protege. Spike is the only known magical dragon in Equestria, but there must be more to this… there must be a path to wisdom.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-27 02:02:30 UTC

Zero ~ Scattered Origins

THE DRAGON'S HOARD

- Scattered Origins -

Nighttime had fallen, and raindrops from the looming grey sky above softly connected with the field of tall grasses. The field, actually a clearing, was surrounded by the dense trees and ground shrubs of the Everfree Forest. The mare standing in the center of the field squatted low in the thick grass, and magically raised a crossbow up to her eyesight for aim.

Time to capture that manticore, she though, levitating an arrow from her woven saddlebag. She slid the arrow into the groove of her weapon, and //how to prime a crossbow//.

The light rain began to pick up, adding a greater impacting sound on the grass. The pure blue-coated mare made her way through the clearing and into the Everfree. She slipped through an opening of sliced leaves and torn bushes that she had used as an entrance to the dark forest.

Upon entering, the mystic winds of the Everfree met her silver mane, causing it to flow gently in the breeze, making the earth pony look grand. The soft dirt ground under her hooves squished as she jogged through the wildness-made path, and she sliced any wet and unwanted leaves that stood in her way with a sharp machete.

The sky overhead was almost fully covered by the dense patches of black leaves; a single leaf of the common Everfree tree could almost fit around a small filly. Still, though, the bright moon dared to peek through the leaves and onto the ground, illuminating the forest with an eerie white tint. The silver streaks that ran on either side of the mare's ribs and her face reflected the moon's light. In any simple survival training, this would prove as dangerous, since a hunting pony should never be forced out of their shadows by any light. The mare made a single leap towards the trees that were standing to her side, and she blanketed herself in their shadows to hide from the moon's eye.

A roar sounded throughout the depths of the forest.

A manticore. The silver-streaked mare instinctively rolled out from behind the coverage of the tree, and sprinted straight through the dark path of the forest, toward the roar. Leaping over any decaying logs or dodging around and low shrubs, the mare stopped in another forest clearing. The clearing had a ground floor made of solid stone