Ogres and Oubliettes, Rise of the Shadow Empire

by ezra09

Rating: teen
Tags: Spike, Comedy, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Adventure, Violence, Alternate Universe, Changelings, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 6759

A darkness is stirring in the Kingdom of Solenis. Bandits roam the open fields while mysterious figures work to undermine the cities from within. But in one small town in the middle of nowhere, a band of unlikely heroes rise to face the shadows.

A darkness stirs in the Kingdom of Solenis. Bandits roam the open fields and monsters rise against the smaller towns. Within the city walls of the capital, mysterious figures known as the seven work in secret to bring down an empire that has lasted a millennium.

A dragon shaman with a shame filled past. An eccentric Zebra travelling the world. A fast talking griffon, a reserved changeling, and a pegasus looking to prove herself. Their paths cross one fateful evening in a small town tavern. Will they be able to overcome their differences and rise to face the shadows, or will they fall to obscurity, crushed beneath the weight of the challenges ahead?

This is a "Ponies play Dungeons and Dragons" Fic taking place in the Discordant AU, but will hopefully be enjoyable by readers who have never read my other stories and who have never played D&D. There will be mentions of game mechanics, as the story will jump between the ponies playing the game and the narrative they weave together, but I'll keep the technical details short and simple when they're mentioned at all. This story takes place ten years after the events of the show, between the stories Harmonics and Overgrowth, but again, neither story is necessary to understand this one.

This story will include occasional reader input, such as voting on player actions ("Should we go with Scootaloo's plan of sneaking in, Apple Bloom's plan of shock and awe, or Sweetie Belle's plan of diplomacy? Vote now!") as well as occasional decisions made with dice ("Will Apple Bloom's character make it into the tunnel before it collapses, or be separated from the group? Let's see what the dice say.")

Published 2018-07-19 16:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-09-18 01:58:48 UTC

Gather Your Party

Candles sputtered in their sockets as Spike’s quill scratched across the paper. Twilight’s throne room was silent in the early morning hours. The round table was littered with broken quills, emptied ink pots, and crumpled papers. At the center, organized into neat piles and rows, were maps, lists, character sheets, and dozens of folders packed with notes.

Spike finished the page he’d been working on with a flourish and set the quill aside. He gave the ink a few seconds to dry and then shifted the other pages back onto it, straightening the pile and slipping them into their own folder.

Finally. After months of planning and weeks of writing, it was done. His magnum opus. He'd spent years playing through prewritten modules, but now he finally had an entire world to call his own, each city carefully crafted with dozens of possible plot hooks and npcs. A world filled with secret organizations, heroes and villains, and a story that would unfold behind the scenes. All it needed was a group of players, and Spike knew the perfect ponies.

He closed the folder and picked up the quill again. On the cover, as carefully as he could manage, he wrote a single word: Solenis.

*****

A dark blue unicorn with a pale blue mane and tail bounced down the main street of Ponyville, followed by a pair of pegasi. “I can’t believe I’m visiting the Palace of Friendship,” Thistleroot said. “Do you think Princess Twilight will be there?”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Probably. It is her home, after all.”

“It’s not like you haven’t met her before,” Mimic added. She had changed to her usual pony form for the trip, a pegasus with a dark coat and deep blue-green mane and tail.

“But that was different. This time we’re guests!”

“Guests of Spike, not Twilight,” Scootaloo said, but Thistleroot’s optimism continued unabated.

The three came to the large golden doors at the front of Twilight’s castle and Scootaloo rapped them with a hoof. A few seconds passed, and she wondered for a moment if anypony could even hear her knocking in a castle that large.

The doors cracked open and Spike stepped out, grinning. “Hey! Glad you could make it." Scootaloo waved. "Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are already here. Come on.” Without waiting for an answer he turned and disappeared into the castle.

“Somepony sounds excited,” Thistleroot noted. “I wonder what’s up.”

Scootaloo shrugged, and they followed Spike through the entrance hall and into the throne room. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom waved from the table, already next to each other in their sisters' seats. Scootaloo hopped into the chair marked with Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark.

“Go ahead and sit down,” Spike said to Thistleroot and Mimic.

“Sit down?” Thistleroot asked. “Are we really allowed—” He cut off as Mimic shoved him forward. “Alright, alright. Uh, dibs on balloons!” He hopped into Pinkie Pie’s seat, leaving Mimic to sit in Fluttershy’s.

“So, now that we’re all here,” Spike said, “let’s start.”

“Start what?” Scootaloo asked. “All your letter said was to come to Ponyville this weekend.”

“Yeah, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Spike said, sitting in Twilight’s seat and reaching for a stack of folders in the smaller seat beside it. He grabbed one from the top of the pile and set it on the table. On the cover was a single word: Solenis. “We’re playing Ogres and Oubliettes.”

“Yes!” Thistleroot said, throwing up both front legs. “I was hoping you were going to say that.”

“Yep,” Spike said. “Now you can finally show me that bards are almost as good as wizards. Almost.”

Mimic leaned closer to Scootaloo. “Do you know what any of that is supposed to mean?”

“Uh, I think it’s a game.”

“Yeah,” Spike said. “It’s a game that’s all about crafting stories with your friends. Uh, I know it doesn’t sound that cool, but I promise, it’s fun.”

Mimic shrugged. “I like stories.”

“It’s true,” Scootaloo said. “She finished the Daring Do series faster than I did.” It made sense, she thought. There wasn’t much to do in the hives when work was done for the day. Mimic had told Scootaloo about passing time with games and riddles. “I guess it was just a matter of time before you guys dragged us into one of these egghead games.”

“Great!” Spike said. “Okay, so today we’re going to do character creation and then a short adventure to teach you two the game and get the party together.” He cleared his throat and opened the folder. “We’ll be starting South of Sediem, the City of the Sun, capital of Solenis.”

*****

In a world far away from our own exists the kingdom of Solenis. A kingdom of magic and adventure, of wise mages and honorable knights, of humble villagers and terrifying warlords, and guided by the Alicorns.

Scootaloo: Uh, this is a game, right?

Thistleroot: Shh, just listen to the opening narration.

For a thousand years and more, Solenis has known prosperity and peace, but even under the watchful eye of Celestia, Goddess of the Sun, peace can only last so long.

Mimic: Goddess? I thought you ponies called her princess?

Sweetie Belle: O&O Alicorns are different. They’re more like mythical figures than regular ponies. Like the changeling stories of the First Queen.

Whispers spread throughout the land. Whispers of strife. Of danger. Of war. The nights grow cold. The roads grow dangerous. Darkness spreads.

Our story begins not in the capital, amongst the nobles and politicians, nor amongst the growing shadows upon the land. Our story begins in a little lakeside fishing town by the name of Three Streams, where a band of unlikely heroes meet for the first time.

*****

“Okay,” Spike continued. “Let’s go ahead and make your characters.” As he spoke he passed each player several sheets of paper.

Scootaloo frowned, looking at the paper. There were so many blanks to be filled in. Why did they need so much information? The game was supposed to be based on their imagination, wasn’t it?

“So, Scootaloo, Mimic, take a second to think about what kind of fictional character you want to add to the story.”

Right, that much she’d known. She didn’t have much to go on, but the little bit of narrative Spike had read for them had at least given her a feel for the tone of the story. Shadows spreading across the land? War? This Solenis place was obviously a darker world than Equestria.

As she thought, Spike was giving each player four regular, cube-shaped dice and a blank sheet of scrap paper. “Roll these four six sided dice, 4d6 for short. Ignore the lowest one and write down the number.”

Scootaloo did so, rolling 6, 6, 5, 2. “Seventeen,” She said, grabbing a quill and writing it on the paper.

“Nice. Okay, now do that five more times.” Scootaloo did as he instructed, writing the five new numbers down beside her seventeen: 12, 13, 14, 9, and 11. They seemed like decent rolls, she thought. Higher was better, right? Hopefully that nine wouldn’t be a problem.

“Me and Sweetie Belle were talking about our characters before ya’ll showed up,” Apple Bloom said. “We decided the two of us know each other already.”

“Is that allowed?” Mimic asked. “Should we know each other too?”

“We can if you want,” Thistleroot said. “Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo shook her head, the beginning of an idea taking shape in her thoughts. “I think I’m going to play someone a little less Rainbow Dashy. More of a loner type. Uh, if that’s okay. I know it’s suppose to be a group thing.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Spike said. “Having different kinds of characters makes for better storytelling.”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Anyway, Ah’m playing a barbarian, and Sweetie Belle wants to be a druid.”

“And you lost me again,” Mimic said. “What’s a druid?”

“It’s somep-one,” Sweetie Belle said, stuttering for just a moment, “who uses nature magic and turns into animals.” Mimic gave her a small smile.

“And barbarians hit things,” Apple Bloom added.

“I’m playing a bard,” Thistleroot said. “That’ll cover us for utility and a bit of extra healing, so you two can play whatever you want, really. Though, we could use somepony sneaky. Or somechangeling.”

“Like a ninja?" Scootaloo asked.

"Yeah. Or any kind of thief type character."

"I can be sneaky,” Scootaloo said.

“Okay,” Spike said. “Let’s go ahead and decide your race, too. That’ll take less explaining. What kind of creatures are you.”

“I’m a changeling,” Mimic said.

“I mean in the game.”

“I know. Can’t I be a changeling in the game?”

“Oh. Yes, you can. And you, Scootaloo?”

“I think I’ll just be a pegasus,” Scootaloo said. “I’m still not sure how this game works, so it’ll probably be easier.”

“Good point. And then for names, you can use a regular name, or you can choose something more exotic.”

“How about Dusk?”

“I like it,” Thistleroot said.

"Elytra," Mimic said. "It was the name of one of the overseers of Chrysalis's horde."

"Okay, great," Spike said. He nodded and passed Scootaloo a list of classes. She lifted it, blinking in surprise as the paper unfolded to three times its original length. He leaned over and started pointing out which classes and subclasses could fill a stealthy role.

Did one game really need so many?

Author's Note

READER’S CHOICE:

Occasionally I will be taking input from the comments as a kind of choose your own adventure story. For the first chapter we will be selecting a class for Scootaloo. Vote in the comments for your choice.

Option 1: Rogue (Scout) - A mobile and stealthy skirmisher who excels in ambushing enemies.

Option 2: Fighter (Eldritch Knight) - A swift and agile fighter who compliments her precise bladework with low level spellcasting.

Option 3: Ranger (Hunter) - An archer and tracker with low level nature based magic.

The Adventure Begins

The Muddled Mare was the nicest tavern in the entire town of Three Streams, if only because there weren’t any others. Candles burnt on tables and on either end of the bar, filling the room with a dim, flickering light and the thick smell of smoke. The candlesticks holding them were caked in years worth of wax. Hanging from the ceiling at the center of the room was a chandelier, an ugly thing made of the rusted ring from an old barrel and a length of smoke stained rope.

A number of patrons sat at the tables and along the bar, buying drinks from a steely gray earth pony crone and just beginning to relax as the work day came to a close.

An elderly, brown-coated mare sat at a table near the back, watching her partner work.

“It’s a simple game, gentlecolts, seconds to learn and years to master,” the griffon said, fanning a deck of cards out for the few ponies he’d managed to gather.

The griffon’s entrance had been met with immediate attention in this little backwater tavern, as it had been in each town before. His lion body was a dark grey. It darkened even further on his wings and the tuft at the end of his tail, while his chest and head were covered in pristine white feathers, and his beak and talons were a steel-gray. Draped across the silver and white backdrop was a splash of blue silk, a vest adorned with twisted stitchwork and patches of ice blues and winter greens. More silk and lace decorated the inner curve of his wings and the end of his tail. To complete the odd look, he wore a number of thin bands of metal on his talons, and from a pair of chains around his neck.

He also wore a thin scabbard at his side, containing an elegant rapier, but for the time being it was left untouched.

“Here, my good man,” the griffon said, offering the deck of cards to one of the watching patrons. “Look through these. There are twenty two cards to this deck. Sun and moon, one through ten and the sisters, which of course count as eleven. Look at the backs too, be sure that they aren’t marked. I run a fair game.”

The pony took the deck and began examining them, carefully checking the backs for any distinguishing marks.

“Now, the game is simple. It’s something they play up North, even as high as the Jeweled Rose family.”

One of the watching ponies snorted. “And how would somepony like you know that?”

“Well, I played with them when I had dinner with Princess Ember Rose just a fortnight past.”

Another snort. The griffon raised a claw and flicked one of the circular bits hanging from his neck. A silver coin emblazoned with a white crystal rose. The watching ponies fell silent.

The elderly mare could guess at what they were thinking. Anypony wearing a crystal rose signet would have more money than sense.

“As I said, Ladies' Liars couldn’t be simpler. We each draw one of the cards and, without showing the other, we take turns betting on the combined total of the cards. So if I go first and I say six, you can bet seven or higher, or you can call. If you call, I win if the combined total is equal to or higher than my bet, and you win if my bet is higher.”

One of the ponies moved slowly, circling around behind the griffon.

Pretty quick, the mare thought. Galahad, one of the ponies moved behind you, probably to watch out for somepony signalling you.

Galahad’s tail flicked once in acknowledgement. “Now, the lying part comes from bluffing your opponent. If you draw a one, you might start the bet low, knowing that the total will be low, but you might also start it high, so as to call my bet right away. Of course, it’s no fun without a little wager. No minimum, of course. A copper wins two. Same for a silver, but anypony brave enough to put up a gold piece will get back three pieces if they win. Anypony care to try?”

The ponies muttered looking to each other. One brave stallion stepped up. “Uh, I’ve got some copper to spare, why not.”

Galahad shuffled the deck, and then, to the surprise of the onlookers, gave it to the stallion. He gave it a clumsy shuffle and then took one card.

Seven.

Galahad’s tail flicked again as he drew a card. “Hmm, let’s start our betting by saying eight.”

“Uhm, ten?” the stallion said.

“Call,” Galahad said. The stallion blinked, clearly expecting the game to last longer. Galahad turned his card over to reveal a three. “See, I started high even though my card was low. You’ll get the hang of it.”

The stallion showed his own card. “Uh, but I won, didn’t I?”

“Oh, hey, look at that.” Galahad’s face soured and he passed the stallion two copper. There was an excited whisper among the watching ponies, and another pony stepped up. “I’ll bet a silver!”

The second game went just as the first had, and within seconds the second pony held two silver, grinning broadly.

“Well, today’s not my day, it seems,” Galahad said, scratching the back of his head. “Maybe offering three gold for one was a bit much. Maybe I should just call it a day.”

“But I haven’t had a chance to play yet!”

“I want to try!”

“I’ve got some gold!”

Galahad grinned and nodded his head. “Well, if you all insist. A griffon never goes back on his word, after all. Of course, I’m sure you all already knew that.”

Before any of the ponies could answer, the door to the tavern slammed open. The patrons closest jumped in surprise, and every head turned in its direction.

A hulking shape stepped through the door, ducking its head slightly to fit. A double sided axe blade jutting from its back smacked the doorway with another bang. The figure straightened, pulling back the hood of a travelling cloak to reveal a square snout covered in silver scales. Piercing white eyes surveyed the now silent room as the dragon pulled the cloak off its shoulders, revealing a simple sash of dark brown furs adorned with carved pieces of bone.

The dragon looked to the door, which was now hanging crooked, and then turned back to the room. He spoke in a rumbling bass. “Sorry.”

“I uh, I just remembered I have somewhere to be,” one of the ponies near Galahad said, quickly finishing his drink and making toward the exit. He paused a good distance away from the dragon and waited for the way to be clear.

“So, uh, how about that game? One gold for three?” Galahad asked as the ponies nervously made their way toward the exit, giving the dragon a wide berth.

As the dragon crossed the room to the bar, another figure stepped in after him. This creature looked like a pony, but her coat was striped with white and gray. The gray stripes formed an image on her flank, one of a stylized tree. Each of its five branches seemed to end in some kind of bubble. She wore a simple traveling cloak made of some canvas-like material, and strapped to her back was a wooden staff topped with five large metal rings. She wore similar rings around her forelegs, each of a different type of metal.

“A zebra,” Galahad noted.

“Gesundheit,” one of the remaining ponies replied.

The zebra looked around the room and smiled. “Please, pony friends, do not fear. There is no danger from my large friend here.” She followed after the dragon, leaving the door clear for ponies to begin filing out, despite her assurance.

“Two ales,” the dragon said, dropping a few copper pieces onto the bar. The older barkeeper nodded and began filling two flagons, her expression never wavering from bored indifference.

Galahad sighed, seeing that the tavern was nearly empty now, and pocketed his deck. “Well, Elytra, how about we make some new friends? Pair like that, they probably have a story or two at least.”

The older mare nodded and, with their job over, changed back. Elytra’s form was fairly typical for a changeling, not that anypony in these part would know what that was. Her body was black, as were her short mane and tail. Her wings were blue and translucent. Her eyes were the light purple of a changeling overseer. She wore a light set of armor, dyed to shades of black and dark grey. The armor covered most of a pale scar that ended low on the left side of her neck.

“Well, hi there,” Galahad said as he approached the odd pair.

The dragon grunted and the zebra nodded in greeting.

“That was quite the entrance,” Galahad said. “And coming from me, that’s saying something.”

“Sorry,” the dragon said again.

“Nah, it was meant as a compliment.”

“Well,” the zebra said, “I am glad to find at least one of you at ease. My friend here is Grogar, and you may call me Breeze.”

“A pleasure,” Galahad said. “My name is Galahad de Strata, and this exotic specimen is my friend and confidant, Elytra.”

Elytra nodded wordlessly. The four stood in silence for several moments.

Sweetie Belle: What do you think Scootaloo and Spike are whispering about over there?

Apple Bloom: Probably how to get her in the story. Hey, while yer up, pass me that bag of chips.

Spike: Okay, sorry about that. Thistleroot and Mimic, go ahead and roll perception checks.

Thistleroot: Woo-hoo, I’m terrible at those! Here, it’s this big one. We call this a d20. Roll it and add this number. I rolled a total of zero, by the way.

Apple Bloom: What? How!?

Mimic: Uh, I got a fifteen.

Elytra stood back, scanning the room as her partner did what he did best. She paused.

Two tables down, closer to where they’d been running their scam, a pony sat largely obscured by a hooded cloak. The pony was facing them, and Elytra could see the glint of firelight reflected in its eyes.

Galahad, someone is staring at you.

His tail flicked, and then he scratched the right side of his neck. He wanted more information.

Over by where you were running your game. Might have guessed that you were going to cheat. I think it’s a pony, but I can’t be sure. It looks like it has wings under its cloak.

A single flick. Acknowledgment.

“So, how about a deal,” Galahad said.

“A deal?”

“Yeah. I buy you and Grogar’s next round, and you tell me a story. I’m a collector, you see.”

“One drink is enough, but I’ll take your deal, I’ll offer a tale for a simple meal.”

“Done. I’ve got—”

Before he could finish, the tavern door burst open once again. A disheveled earth pony stumbled in, turned, and slammed it. The door bounced against the frame and he snarled in frustration before closing it more carefully. The barkeep sighed, setting aside a glass she’d begun wiping down as the few remaining ponies in the room stood. Some moved toward the door while others moved toward the back wall.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t tell me it’s happening again?”

“Woah, woah,” Galahad said. “What’s going on?”

“An attack,” the newly arrived pony said, voice shaking. “Wolves this time. From the east road out of the Macasby Run.”

“This time?” Grogar asked.

“It’s been happening a few nights each week,” the barkeep said. “Wild animals coming into town and attacking. Okay, everypony. No need to panic. They don’t know how to work doorknobs, so we’re safe. Keep an eye out the front window, be ready to let anypony who comes running in.”

“Well, it seems we must postpone our bargain,” Breeze said. “Come, Grogar, it is time to work again.”

Grogar grunted and rose from his seat. The two started for the door.

“I’m going too,” Galahad said. “This’ll make for a great story.” He started after them. Elytra sighed and followed. The four of them made their way outside and started running for the Eastern road.

“Three rivers run through the town,” Galahad said as they went. “Hence the name. Macasby Run is the Southernmost river, so we’ll want to turn right up here.”

The pony that was watching you followed us out. I saw her walk out, but I lost track of her.

“We’ve got bigger things to worry about,” Galahad said, coming to a stop and drawing his rapier. Ahead of them, four wolves, each as tall as a pony, prowled down the street toward them.

Grogar pulled his greataxe and stepped forward, putting himself between them and the wolves.

“Perhaps you two should stand further back,” Breeze said. “You need not endanger yourselves in this attack.”

“We can handle ourselves fine,” Elytra said, moving forward to stand next to Grogar.

“Oh, so you do speak after all.” Breeze reached back, biting onto her quarterstaff and pulling it free to rest against her shoulder. The wolves advanced, teeth bared in furious snarls. “Well, I certainly won’t keep you from this brawl.”

Before anypony could attack, a dark shape darted out of the shadows. The figure came to a stop, one hoof undoing the clasp at its neck. Its wings spread, casting the cloak off to reveal a pegasus.

Her coat was a dark, dusty purple and her mane a deep red wine. She wore a fine set of light armor. On each of her front hooves, she wore a thick band with broad, short hooks and clips on either side. Hanging from her left side, just under her wing, was a bow harness.

The new pony reared back onto her hind legs, wings flared for balance. She used the band on her left leg to hook the bow and pull it forward as far as the harness would allow. Her other hoof pulled an arrow from a quiver slung low on her right side, knocked it, and used the hooked band to draw the bowstring back.

She twisted her hoof and let the arrow fly.

The front wolf flinched and snarled as the arrow sank into its shoulder, ducking away just in time to miss a swing of Grogar’s axe. It circled the dragon and ran into a waiting Breeze.

Breeze had begun stomping in place behind Grogar, the staff held parallel to the ground, the rings rattling with each stomp. Her hoof came up as the wolf approached. It twisted aside, and her hoof only glanced against its thick hide. The street was filled with the smell of burning fur and the wolf staggered. Acrid vapor drifted from its side as fur, skin, and muscle began to dissolve.

The wolf struggled, trying to take a bite at the zebra, but the damage was too much and it collapsed.

The other wolves moved left, away from Breeze. One particularly brave, or particularly stupid, wolf lunged at Grogar, its teeth useless against the dragon’s thick scales. Grogar pushed the wolf away and swung as it turned to flee, leaving a deep gash along its side. The final two charged Elytra.

The changeling ducked under the bite of the first wolf, coming back up just as the second struck. Its jaws clamped onto her neck and drove her down into the ground.

“Elytra!” Galahad called out, eyes going wide. “Uh, uh, okay.” His arms came up, talons curved into a quick arcane gesture as he sang four notes in a panicked rush. A silvery blue sand poured out from his hands, drifting toward the wolves.

The wolf standing over Elytra pulled back, readying a lung to finish her off. The dust swept over it and it staggered, head coming up to look at Galahad, eyes blinking. Its head dipped. The wolf Grogar had injured staggered to a halt before falling to the floor. The wolf beside her tilted and fell to the floor. Finally, the third wolf sank to its haunches, and the slid sideways, eyes falling shut as sleep took it.

Galahad whistled a simple victory tune, swinging his sword like a conductor's baton. “Thank Celestia, that spell is so good at level one. Er, I mean, Elytra! Stay with us!”

Breeze stepped toward the unconscious changeling, stomping again, the rings of her staff clattering against each other. The torn flesh around Elytra’s neck flowed together and her eyes fluttered open. Breeze helped her back to her hooves.

"Thanks," Elytra said, feeling her neck.

Galahad breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the newcomer. “So, I’m guessing you’re on our side?”

The pegasus nodded. “Yeah. I heard your conversation in the tavern and I thought I would be able to help.”

“What was with all of the sneaking around?” Elytra asked shakily.

“I, uh, I don’t do well with other ponies. My name is Dusk, by the way.”

“Galahad de Strata. A pleasure.”

Mimic: Is there any way to tell if she’s being honest with us? You two were whispering for a long time.

Spike: Yes, actually. You wouldn’t want to use information like that, since your character wouldn’t know it, but it makes sense for you to be naturally suspicious. Go ahead and roll an insight check. It’s the big one again, and then add that number. And Scootaloo, this is a little unrelated, but roll an intelligence check with advantage, since beasts are your favored enemy.

Mimic: Eighteen.

Scootaloo: Thirteen.

Elytra narrowed her eyes and took a step back. I don’t trust her, Galahad. I don’t know why she was following us, but keep an eye on her.

“That’s beside the point.” Dusk nodded toward the sleeping wolves. “The townsponies said this was happening a few times a week. This isn’t normal behavior. Predator’s like these don’t just leave their territory and wander into towns. They’re smarter than that.”

“Then why are they here?” Elytra asked, voice sharp.

“My guess? Something drove them out of their territory.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before a low, guttural growl reached their ears. The party turned to see a hulking shape turn onto the street from an alley forty feet away. It looked like the wolves they had already seen, but it was larger, almost as tall at the shoulder as Grogar. Its body creaked as it moved, and its flesh seemed to be made of wood. It turned, its eyes glowing in the darkening evening, a burning purple vapor drifting off of them.

Galahad swallowed and raised his sword. “Ah, ponyfeathers.”

Author's Note

MECHANICAL FUN FACTS:

Occasionally I'll use the author's notes to talk about some of the behind the scene's game mechanics. If you're not interested in the dice rolling and numbers, and are just here for a story, feel free to skip these notes.

I did roll stats and I have character sheets saved for the five players. Pretty much everyone rolled really well, with Scootaloo's combined stat total being the second lowest. Mimic's is the lowest with just one point less. Sweetie Belle rolled the highest, and after racial bonuses she has a 20 in Wisdom and an 18 in Constitution. The lowest single score is Thistleroot, who true to his "for the lulz" attitude, chose Wisdom as his dump stat. He has a 6. He gets -2 to Wisdom saves. Yeah, the first roll of the campaign really was a total of 0. We're off to a great start.

Speaking of first rolls, the first critical of the campaign was rolled by the wolf attacking Elytra. It dealt 12 points of damage to her 9 hit points. Also, ten imaginary points to whoever can guess her class.

End: Session One

Spike set the small timber wolf figure onto the table. Scootaloo leaned forward to get a better view. It was larger than any of the other figures, taking up four squares instead of one. It was a decent likeness of a real timber wolf, though the paint job was a little messy in places, and it looked like purple fuzz had been stuck onto the eyes.

Spike rolled one of the larger dice, the one he’d called a d20, and made a note on his paper. “Okay, we’ll start back at the top of the initiative order, so Scootaloo, it’s your turn.”

“Okay. Uh, I don’t think there’s much I can do other than shoot it, is there?”

“Not really. You’ll get more options when we level up. We only started at level one to teach you and Mimic the basics.”

Scootaloo nodded and rolled one of the dice. “Uh, fifteen plus six, so twenty one. And then nine damage. Oh, and can I fly up so it can’t bite me?”

Spike nodded, making another note, “Sure. But as the arrow hits with a dull thud, it doesn’t do as much damage as you expected. You get the feeling that piercing weapons won’t do as much against its thick, wooden hide.”

“Oh,” Scootaloo said, a little disappointed. “Well, at least one of us has an axe.”

“Uhuh,” Apple Bloom said, grinning as she picked up a dice. “And Ah’m after Scootaloo, right?”

“Nope,” Spike said. “As you take to the sky, the lumbering wolf rears its head back and lets out an ear splitting howl. You see the sleeping wolves begin to stir.”

*****

Dusk’s arrow sank into the timber wolf’s shoulder with a dull thud, doing nothing to slow the creature’s advance. It’s hungry eyes, glowing purple in dim evening, swept over the group. It reared its head back and howled. Grogar howled back in defiance and charged, leaping over the smaller wolves and slamming his axe into the timber wolf’s side.

The smaller wolves began to stir, roused by the timberwolf’s howl. The one closest to Elytra snapped at her, forcing her to duck away as the others flanked her.

Galahad backed away, pulling a small crossbow from his pack and taking a shot at one of the wolves that were now surrounding his friend. “Elytra, get out of there!”

*****

“But if I move, don’t they get to attack me?” Mimic asked, looking at the grid with a small frown. The three smaller wolves were all just one space away from her.

“You can disengage,” Spike said. “Then nopony can attack you when you move, but that would be all you can do.”

“I don’t want to lose another turn,” Mimic said, thinking and looking at the sheet Spike had helped her fill out. “Does attacking like that count as a reaction?” Spike nodded. “Then I cast Arms of Hadar. I think.”

“Okay, yeah, that could work,” Spike said, rolling several times behind his screen. “Yeah. The one Grogar hit earlier makes its save, but the other two fail, so they can’t take reactions until their next turn. Go ahead and roll damage.”

Mimic checked her sheet again and grabbed two of the six sided dice and rolled them. They bounced across the table and came to a halt, a six resting on the top face of both. Spike stared at the dice for a long moment before sighing.

“Okay. So as the wolves are circling you getting ready to attack, you feel something else. Something at the back of your head, a crawling sensation across your neck. Something you’ve only felt a few times before. Something you don’t fully understand. A creature, watching you. You can feel power building in you, and you know it’s not your own.”

Mimic listened, slightly confused. She’d expected Spike to note the damage and move on, as he had before, but she couldn’t help but admit she was a little intrigued at whatever it was he was talking about.

“Your eyes begin to glow as the shadows beneath your hooves twist.”

*****

The wolves lunged toward Elytra.

Elytra stood unmoving as twisting arms of shadow erupted from the ground beneath her hooves and caught each of the wolves. The first wolf, already injured by Grogar’s axe, was slammed backward into the ground where it stood. The second was thrown into the corner of the nearest building and fell into an unmoving heap. The third tried to back away, but the remaining arms grabbed it and simply pulled in every direction at once.

The arms dispersed, and the purple glow faded from Elytra’s eyes as the street was left in stunned silence, broken only by a single set of clapping talons.

“Woo!” Galahad cheered. “You go, girl!”

The timber wolf lunged toward Grogar. The dragon caught the beasts jaw with the haft of his axe and turned it aside. The blade caught the timber wolf across the side, sending it rolling back just as Breeze let loose another spell, marking the timber wolf with an unearthly luminance. Grogar hefted the axe above his head and brought it down with a roar of fury, scattering branches and splitting bark. He brought it down again and again, until nothing remained but a pile of firewood.

Dusk watched the brutish dragon for a moment before looking back over the street to be sure the danger had passed. No other creatures stirred. “What now?”

“Now we go back to that tavern, I think,” Galahad said.

“Yes, I agree with our feathered friend. We should take a moment to rest and mend.”

Grogar nodded. “I want to know more. They said these attacks were happening for weeks.”

The Muddled Mare was just as they left it. A dozen ponies sat in fear, waiting for some news from outside. The thick smell of smoke was almost choking after the fresh evening air.

“Your conquering heroes have returned!” Galahad announced as they entered the room, drawing the attention of everypony inside.

“Conquering heroes? Wait,” the barkeep said, eyes widening, “you’re those ponies that ran off when fancy came running in. Did you...”

“You may rest at ease, for tonight at least,” Breeze said. “We have overcome the threatening beasts.”

There was a moment of silence and then everypony in the tavern began talking at once, some congratulating or thanking the party, others asking for more details, and some casting doubt on their claim.

Grogar sighed, straightened, and raised a single, massive arm above his head. The tavern fell silent. “We have questions.”

“Thank you, Grogar, now if you’d all please, what little we’ve heard puts us at unease. We’d like to know more about your troubles and pain, if somepony would be kind enough to step forward and explain?”

“It’s like we told ya before,” one of the ponies said, “a couple weeks ago, the animals in the forest started coming into town and attacking ponies. We’ve had bears, wolves, even big snakes coming into town.”

“It started when that stranger came around,” another pony said.

“Oh, don’t you start that again.”

“I’m telling you, I saw him. He was wearing all black, and he had a hood up the whole time. Other ponies saw him too! My buddy’s ex-marefriend’s cousin’s coworker said she saw him going into the forest the day before the first attack. Nopony’s seen him since!”

“Well, that does sound suspicious,” Dusk said. “Uh, right?”

“Totally,” Galahad agreed. “Unless it’s a red-herring.”

“The beasts come from the forest,” Grogar said. “Whether this pony exists or not, the forest is where we will learn more.”

“Wait, you’re not planning on going out there?” the barkeep asked.

“I fear somepony must, if these attacks are to end. If somepony must face such danger, better me and my friend,” Breeze answered.

“Yeah,” Elytra said. “Better her and her friend.”

“Oh come on,” Galahad said. “Don’t be like that. Imagine the story. Some mysterious stranger in the forest, stirring up the beasties. Don’t you want to know why?”

The changeling just sighed.

“I’m going too,” Dusk said. “If there’s a threat out there, you’ll need my help tracking it down.”

“Wow,” the barkeep said. “I don’t know what to say. Tell you what. It’s getting late, and the forest is more dangerous at night. Stay here and rest up. No charge for the rooms.” She hesitated, and then turned and pushed through a door behind the bar. She came back a minute later, carrying two small, dusty bottles willed with a dark red liquid. “I’ve been saving these for a rainy day. If you’re really going to help, I want you to take them.”

“What are they?” Dusk asked.

“Healing potions,” the barkeep answered. “They’re not that strong, but they’re better than nothing.”

“Thank you,” galahad said, taking the bottles and handing them to Grogar. “You seem like you’re the least likely to fall, plus me and Breeze have healing magic. Hold on to these, and pour them down our throats if we need them, yeah?”

The dragon nodded and stored the bottles in a pouch at his waist.

And with that, the party sat down to eat, drink, and eventually retire to their rooms.

*****

“And that’s a good place to call it for tonight,” Spike said.

“Aww,” Thistleroot whined.

“We’ll have more time next time, since we won’t have to make characters,” Spike said. “If everypony wants to play again, that is,” he added, looking at Scootaloo and Mimic.

Scootaloo shrugged, still confused by the game. It hadn’t been a waste of an evening. She’d had a chance to spend time with her friends, at least. “If everypony else wants to, I’ll play again.”

Mimic nodded. “It was okay. The arm spell was interesting.”

“Great!” Spike said, perking up. “Well, now that you have your characters, feel free to flesh out their back stories so I can work them into the campaign. And Thistleroot, could you help Mimic and Scootaloo level up. We’ll play the next session at level two.”

Thistleroot snapped a salute. “Sure. I wanted to talk to Mimic at some point about how our characters know each other.”

Mimic tilted her head, thinking. “I actually had an idea, while we were playing.”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow at that, but shrugged. She hadn’t expected Mimic to be that interested, but it was hardly the most surprising thing the odd changeling had ever done.

“Well, I was thinking we’d play every two weeks, if that works for everypony,” Spike said. The group gave a round of general consent, and after a few more minutes of chatting, Scootaloo, Thistleroot, and Mimic made their way back toward the train station.