Tales of Non-Necromantic Oversight
There are a million ways one might consider a good way to wake up. Beside an attractive person, in a comfy bed, or maybe the simple joy of soft sunlight through the curtains as the birds peacefully rouse you. In a lost set of catacombs beneath a small Zebrican village. This was the wakeup call the lone resident form ages past received. Pale skin shone from a ghostly light as a hand crossed over a face with close-cropped hair. He let out a breath, staring at the bracelet on his wrist connected to the wall with a large chain. He shook it a few times, causing clanks and rattles to disturb the millennia-old silence. The chains felt cold against bare skin, sending his attention to the fact he was stark naked. "Well, I don't remember doing anything this kinky last night."
He followed the chain finding the anchor securely planted with a small leather-bound journal resting beside it. The creature reached over to it, flipping the pages open and nodding as he read through the journal. "So old Ray decided to play God... again. I should probably assume he isn't waiting for me here then." We flipped through the book to the end, where a small silver key fell softly into his lap. He picked it up and slid it into the lock of his manacle. With a click, the manacle fell off, and he was free to move away from his sarcophagus and looking over the room. "Well, it appears that Ray never lost his goth lifestyle."
The room formed a stereotypical crypt. A long hallway with low arches branching off, and giving the illusion of solitude to every guest despite the possibility of being surrounded on all sides by other guests. Small plaques sat on the end of each private memorial, a small sigil of a Templar cross with a skull emblazoned boldly over the cross. The man sighed. "Ray, you are without a doubt, trying WAY too hard."
He leaned down, trying to read his own memorial. He ran his finger across it, reading aloud. "Here lies Michael, if you wake him up then I'll cut you."
Michael scoffed. "Of course, he's as poetic as a falling rock." Without any gusto, he rose, moving towards the lone staircase, moving up to something that hopefully provided information, rest, and some conversation. His stomach rumbled, leading him to add something else. "And food, preferably a large amount of food."
He made it to the top of the staircase, finding a large pack sitting beside a large stone door. There was no note beside the pack, but that didn't stop Michael from routing through it. With a victory shout, he pulled the first of the supplies out. "By Jove, Ray remembered to leave me clothes!" He threw on a T-shirt and jeans, smiling wide. "Never thought I would thank Ray for picking my clothes, but it's better than nothing." He glanced at the shirt he wore. A smiling skeleton was on it, giving a thumbs up to any who may have been passing. He sighed. "Though your taste in shirts is still abysmal."
WIth his first simple quest done, he pushed open the door. A shower of sparks flew from the crack, as the key he had used to release his chains emitted black smoke. From the smoke, a female face emerged. "Hello master, I am guide-spell 11284. I have been sent to relay to you the enormity of your current task."
Michaels' palm met his face. "I swear to god if it says what I think it's going too..."
The head paused to allow him to finish his thought. it nodded as if understanding before continuing. "Your mission, if you choose to accept it-"
"CURSE YOU TO THE DARKEST PIT RAY!" Michael threw the key down the hall, the head floating after it lazily. He stared at it as it disappeared into the darkly lit crypt. He waited, seeing if it would float back. Instead, a loud laugh echoed through the walls before fading into nothing. A lesser man would have been frightened by the ethereal voice wafting from the dark, but Michael had been around Ray for far too long. "Ray, I'm going to punch you the next time I see you." With his piece said, he pushed through the door.
Sand. Sand seemed to be the only defining feature of the area he found himself in. He looked to the left. Sand. He looked to the right. Sand. He let out a mutter of annoyance. "Of course the fool put me in the middle of nowhere. Why wouldn't he put me somewhere useless when he got to choose anywhere in the world?"
A voice spoke up from behind him. "If they left you in there they must have wanted you safe. These doors and wall are solid granite."
Michael paused, turning to face the voice. A grey pony with lavender hair, a teal blouse over her form. Michael stared. "I would assume so." There was an awkward silence as the pony tapped the rock several times before holding an ear to the wall. Michael waited, and then had enough. "Excuse me, who are you?"
The pony tapped the rock again, seeming to ignore his words before letting out a single nod. She stepped back and spoke. "I'm Maud."
Michael waited, expecting more information. Instead, the pony pulled out a notebook and began scribbling in it. Michael looked over to her for a moment before deciding he should give his name. Or at least something close. "I am Micrex, what are you doing?"
Maud closed the book with her nose, grabbing it gently with her mouth so she could easily place her pack. "I'm studying the rocks."
Michael waited for more again but decided she wasn't the type to give him any actual information. "So, why are you studying rocks?"
Maud brought out a small tool, slicing a sliver of granite from the crypt. "I'm working on my Rockterate and this Granite is out of place. I needed to see if it was natural or not before I wrote about it." She put the sliver back where it came from. "It's not, I'll go back home now."
Michael stared at the retreating pony, trying to figure out what in the sam hell was going on. Michael considered his options. He could wander about an empty desert with a pack probably filled with bad jokes and random viscera, or follow Maud and hope she would lead him to some form of civilization. It wasn't a hard choice. "HEY! HOLD UP A SECOND MAUD!"
Author's Note
Imma be on B_25's podcast this Thursday. The day of our Lord 21/Feb/19. Pop in and join us. That's this coming Thursday.
https://www.twitch.tv/thebteeeam
Also, this is for side-stories that don't focus on Ragar as much, more things to give you hints as to later events, answer questions, or that I think would be amusing.
Tales of Non-Necromantic Oversight
You couldn't throw a dart at a map of Equestria and hit a place that Ragar hadn't left some strange clue or hint at. This knowledge was known to a select few. Celestia had known for a long time that Ragar liked to leave souvenirs, but she had never had the pleasure of knowing what all of them were. At least, not until recently. With the insatiable lust for knowledge and power her student Sunset Shimmer, trying to find Ragar was a natural fit for her. An outlet for her great abilities where she was pushed beyond what a classroom could provide.
Or, that's what Sunset assumed. The other option that flitted around in her head was much crueler than she thought. The only other option she could think of was that she had managed to get Celestia so mad that she was sent on an errand that would surely cause her to go insane. Those were the only options on the table, mostly due to what she had found in front of her.
An ancient tablet that was written in a language she couldn't translate. Magic seemed to splash off of the stone, and the symbols were alien and strange. The insanity came in when it talked to her. A deep-throated accent mocking her every step of the way. "This is attempt two-hundred, Da? Should we be going again, or will we relax and drink together?"
Sunset's eye twitched. "I am going to try again! You can't even drink things, you're a hunk of stone!"
The stone took a moment to respond. "That is true, but I still want drink."
Sunset slapped her forehead. "Couldn't you at least actually speak Equestrian at least? You cut words and it's giving me a headache."
The stone let out a laugh. "So many useless in your tongue. Removing them better, saves time. I could home language?"
Sunset sighed. "Fine, whatever. I speak a fair few, maybe I can keep up and remove headache."
The stone tablet laughed again. "Салли пони не говорит по русски. Русские дают хуже головную боль."
Sunset glared at the tablet. "Seriously? Is that the same language as this stupid tablet, because if so I'm just chucking it."
The text shifted slightly on the tablet, changing symbols to a different language. The stone spoke again. "Ha! Silly pony, It now matches. Now chuck in nearest crypt, I will track down boss there."
With steady hooves, Sunset calmly out the tablet down. Her horn sparked, a small lance of fire falling from the tip and melting dirt and grass under her before it had the chance to set alight. Her next sentence came through gritted teeth, each word grinding out in an almost painfully slow pace. "So if you can change the language of the text, can you make it so I can read it?"
There was a pause. "Crap. Now I must translate. I do not like this." The text warped and twisted, coming to rest at a variant of Equestrian that, despite its century-old style, was indeed translateable.
She read it for a moment, and then calmly turned around. Her journal popped out of her saddlebags, and a quill floated beside it. After a moment of musing her quill wrote a single sentence on the page, before the journal snapped shut. She took a few deep breaths. "Okay, lets recap. Recaps are good."
The tablet spoke up. "Recaps are good. They let me know exactly why you read me, da?"
Sunset studiously ignored the tablet. "So Zebrica had the sealed crypt, which is the oldest structure I've found relating to Ragar. A small etching there led me to the En-deer-ing woods, which held a small group of skeletons manning a fast food cart. They pointed me to Catro, which had a strange museum." Sunset began trotting back and forth. "Which is what led me here, with this stupid tablet."
With her piece spoke, the tablet spoke up. "I am not stupid! I just don't like you."
Sunset continued her rant, ignoring the tablet. "Which just told me that apparently, Ragar needed to buy some Bucking milk, and he was going to visit Celestia!" She took a deep breath. "So now I have to go all the way to Canterlot because he wanted some of Celestia's Tea!"
Sunset took a few moments to calm herself down. "And, just to top it all off, I have to take this tablet with me. Because I would bet money those stodgy folks in the mages tower are going to want to poke and prode all the enchantments on it."
The tablet spoke up again, getting slightly angry. "They will get nowhere! I will make smoke cloud vision like cloud of death!"
Sunset levitated the tablet up, placing it in her pack. "I really hate my life right now."
A voice came from her pack, muffled by canvas and metal. "I hate your life to."