Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience

[Artifact hunt – Servant Action]

[Roll: 22 + 12 (Learning) = 34, Level 2]

[Suspicion: 50 + 20 (Level 2) = 70. Moderately suspicious, bound to cause some whispers wherever you take it, if you allow it to be seen.]

The cut off appendage of some insectoid creature, encased in glass. Your servant also wrote that the salespony insists that the artifact is, somehow, cursed, although he did not get into detail.

MOTH artifact

Level 2

Cost: 100 bits

You fold the report back into the letter where it came in and stash it in a drawer of your desk. You will think about it later.

SNAP.

You wake up with a start, sitting upright in less than a moment, your heart pounding inside your chest. You are awake, you are sure of it. You are in your room.

And you know what you have just heard.

You look around, but total darkness surrounds you. It must be way past midnight, during that awkward time when the moon is not yet angled for its light to be seen through your closed curtains.

For some reason you start breathing heavily. Tension fills your muscles as you start hearing… something coming from a deep corner of your skull, a buzz of some sorts that grows louder and louder. Something is welling inside your heart, and it is neither fear nor terror, but a close cousin of both that makes you want to run away while keeping you paralyzed in place.

You barely feel your husband's hoof, reaching sleepily for you as a response to your sudden movement. Every last ounce of your senses are aimed at your surroundings and around your bed. Looking for a moving shadow you know will be there, listening for the flapping of insect wings that are bound to come from outside of your head.

SNAP.

You look up, the sudden movement almost hurting your neck. It came from the ceiling.

You can feel it now. You absolutely cannot see it, not even as a solid shadow or a formless silhouette, but you can feel it right there. That… thing that is in your ceiling, holding itself in place with too many limbs, looking down at you with too many eyes. You can feel as it slowly inches towards you, using its terrible height to get closer to you while upside-down, as a normal pony might stand taller in order to reach a higher place with their mouth.

And you cower back into your bed in return, some primal instinct working to keep you as far away from that thing as possible, a wordless cry of terror stuck in your throat.

It stops, right when you feel that it's about to touch the tip of your mane, right when you no longer have any more room to cower into your bed, unless you rip your mattress and dive into the workings of the bed itself.

And you can feel it… sniff at you. With all the wrong sounds that a creature could ever make to fill its lungs, you feel it breathe in the air about you.

"You have seen it, have you not…?" it finally speaks, and you know that you would be trembling if you could move. You know that the thing above you is a terrible thing indeed, old and large and forbidding, but always in control of itself, always speaking through shadows and puppets so as not to scare away the small and soft things that gather around it for its knowledge and teachings.

But not tonight. Tonight, you can feel that its control is being supplanted by something else. Some sort of excitement. Some sort of urgency.

So it will not, cannot, bother with appearances. Tonight, it simply desires.

"You smell of…" another disturbing breath comes, accompanied by the sound of wings and clicking and scraping of claws and talons against the ceiling, "death… You smell of blankness and conclusions… Very good, little Velvet, very good indeed…"

You can hear it, buzzing in excitement, limbs clacking against each other in a parody of how a pony might tremble with anticipation, or clap their hoofs in glee.

You sense that it is opening its mouth, and you don't hear the next word it says so much as you feel it.

"COME."

Its voice is like a living thing. More than a suggestion, more than a command, it is like a compulsion, a separate entity all on its own. You feel that single word hit you like you would feel a swarm of insects cover your whole body, their legs grabbing at your fur, the hairs on their bodies scraping against your skin.

You panic, powerlessly struggling against the living wave of creatures walking over you, trying to swat away at things that are not there, closing your mouth shut as moths try to enter your mouth and ears and eyes. You fail, and you feel them filling your throat, blocking your lungs, eating their way into your head.

You try to scream, chocking at that horrible invasion, thrashing as you feel not that your life is leaving your body, but that something else is entering it.

You don't even realize when you wake up, hoofs against your throat and gasping for air.

Even though you were sure that this just now was not a dream.

Your limbs go limp for a moment, as you stare at the empty ceiling, your mind numb and confused, your body light as a feather.

Until you start feeling a certain… itch, under your skin. It grows slowly, gently consuming more of your attention, little by little taking up more of your thoughts.

And not long after you know what to do, and with a touch lighter than that of a passing breeze you ease your husband's hoof away from your body and jump out of bed.

[The Gathering Call, breakpoints 40/80/120]

[Roll: 83 + 12 (Intrigue) + 20 (MOTH bonus, DOUBLED) + 40 (THAT OLD YEARNING) = 155]

[Absolutely undetected]

You stand next to your bed, your husband fast asleep clutching at the still warm spot where you were next to him. He is adorable, in a way. So caring, so earnest.

So soft and covered in fur.

You see his face, in that total darkness, and notice a smile. You wonder if he is having a good dream. You wonder if you should whisper to him about the Woods, right before you leave.

But something else catches your fancy, and you make your way out your bedroom.

You sneak underneath the floor, through the large pathways opened to you by the shadows, you dance around the soft echo of light given away by the long dead candles of the corridors, and you crawl through the ceiling over the staircase.

You eye the keyhole of the main door, seeing it as an inviting exit towards the night, but the windows are closer to you, so you decide to ride a night breeze into the welcoming darkness that awaits outside.

Your body is wrong.

You know that. You can feel that your skin is too tight, constrictive almost. You feel that your joints and ligaments are jammed inside your legs and hoofs, and your tendons ache every time your try to flex them, the soft body that surrounds you protesting against the wounding effort. But it is what you have, for now, so it will have to be enough.

You jump from treetop to treetop, using passing leaves as cover from the light of the moon, slithering over the high walls of your estate, galloping under the shade offered by clouds towards the dark streets of the town.

You pass by locked doors and closed houses, smelling the sweet dreams that are happening within them. You pass by a couple, two ponies who smell of Grail and other things, but they give you as much attention as they might give to their own shadow, for there is nothing to be seen if they look your way. Even though you are larger than them, and you are more-limbed than them, and you cast a shadow inside of which they could get lost.

Your limbs are out of place.

You walk with urgency now, over lampposts and under rooftops, through closed windows and by the beds of sleeping fillies. Your passing is so quiet that you do not even disturb the occasional candle, your whispers so subtle that you do not cause even a single nightmare.

Until you finally arrive. At a building as unremarkable as any other, at a beacon covered by a smidge of Winter, but that is pulsing with the sacred pulses. A place where the Woods breach into the Wake.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

You reel at your own form, your skin itching for release, the things that should be on your back aching to burst out from the grip of your ribs, your members begging to cut through the muscles of your legs. But you endure, twisting for a few moments as you struggle for self-control, feeling the noises inside your head also coming from your chest and your back and the tip of your hoofs.

You focus all of that agony on the task at hand, your eyes focusing once more on the siren call of home, that comes from deep within the Woods. You wish to burrow through the ground, to reach it as fast as possible, but instead you sneak in through the locked window, and slide through the corners that the walls make with the floor.

You see the whole congregation gathered. Ponies walking blindly through the physical threshold that separates the dull Wake from the sacred Woods, their eyes useless where yours can see clearly. You see their markings and affinities written on their flanks, covered by dull cutie marks of useless skills and senseless symbolism. So many of them, so many souls seeking for the Glory like moths are drawn to light.

You see your compatriots gathered in the center of that place, at a central position of status and prestige. Such dull notions.

You see Comet Feet, next to Windy Flakes, the hoofs of both of them dripping with the ghost of recently spilt blood, dedicated to different aspects. You see Copper Secateur and her satisfied smile, the lush of something delectable within her, like the bud of a small flower. You see Starry Dancer, trying to listen to the music that has been haunting her, which she does not yet know to be the beating of her own heart.

You see Jade Whistle, her eyes filled with the tiny candle-flames of Lantern, sparks that might grow if fostered. And she sees you back, or at least the shadows you cast against the wall, her neutral face flashing with sudden fear as she bows down, mistaking you for your Master.

And you see your Master, great and large and magnificent, still hiding deeper in the darkness, a playful mood about him at Jade Whistle's sudden fright.

You see the smile on the face of its body.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

But you care for none of that, landing in the middle of them, in the single-aspect circle that Jade Whistle had prepared beforehand. Your compulsion is like a physical pain now, and the only way to satisfy it will be by performing your work.

The other four, surprised by the sound of Jade Whistle's sudden movement, practically jump at your arrival, that sudden and hard thump they must have heard coming from the place in the middle of the circle. But you do not care, and you reach out with your constrictive legs and pitiful hoofs, digging into the black dirt of the ground, expanding it with the patterns you learned within the Mansus, making it larger so it might accommodate the attention of more of the laws.

Such is your focus, and your aching, that you almost do not notice the conversation around you.

"By the…"

"What the hell was that?"

"Is that noise… Velvet?"

SNAP.

"She is one who has fulfilled her duty," a parcel of your mind focuses more clearly now, at the sweet melody that is the drone of insect wings, and the scraping of dark branches, "but how fared you all on yours?"

There is a buzz of words and whispers. Several of the ponies in the crowd gathered around the group talking in hushed tones, a few of the inner circle closer to you reacting in their own emotional ways. But one by one they do speak.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

You dig another quarter of a circumference, your time is running out.

"I… well… I have decided to go deeper into the Edge, Master," the sharp voice of Comet Feet barely registers in your ears, "I feel that I am reaching the exercises of the third intensity, and I aim to become everything we will need on that matter."

"We have procured the a new place for gathering. Its previous owner will no longer bother us, although…" you can feel Windy Flake's smile, a Winter smile, crossing his lips, "we might have a bit of a problem with an ongoing investigation. But apart form that, I shall be transferring our operation there in the coming month."

You try and reach for the other side of the circle, but realize your limbs are being blocked by some of your organs. Annoying. You jump to where you need to be, and continue the preparations.

"Mayor Mare trusts me completely now, Master sir. But I… couldn't even begin to work with talking to law enforcement… Sorry Windy?"

"Its alright Starry. More fun."

"And I managed to train a few disciples to help spreading around the word, they can even be sent to another city to start a cell there," you think you notice the pleasant voice of Copper Secateur, "although I'd rather if they didn't until they are tested. But the time I spent with them meant I couldn't look for any new recruits these past two months.

You dig your useless horn into the dirt, drawing the cycles of the moon and the lines of the Mansus with the delicate attention that they require. Part of you wishes that your horn will just fall off from the effort, seeing how much of you it is blocking inside your skull, another part of you could hear a few worried gasps from the ponies around you.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

Almost there.

"The cadre is trained, Master. We have followed your instructions and are ready to assist on the two-aspect ritual," you can feel Jade Whistle's Lantern-gaze upon you, too weak to penetrate the shadows, the worry in her mind trying to guess exactly what is taking place.

"Very good…"

You start heaving with effort, feeling something deep inside you twist in the wrong way. The itch on your whole body becoming almost maddening as it recedes into deeper places inside of you. Your lungs ache with protest as you realize you are becoming lesser, your task still unfinished.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

Just.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

One.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

More.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place.

LINE.

You scrape a hoof and close the second circle, and then you collapse on the ground. You feel your hoofs trembling, you feel your entire body trembling in fact, and you don't even have the energy to stand up.

Reality finally settles around you like a splash of cold water. Where are you? What in the heavens just happened?! Your memories of but a few seconds ago seem to be draining from your mind like sand in an hourglass. You look around you and you see nothing but darkness, the feeling of dirt under your body, the smell of the Woods coming from nearby.

"Velvet, here, its all right" you hear a voice next to you, hoofs quickly coming around you. It takes you a while for you to recognize that voice as being Jade Whistle, and you are equally surprised at the emotion you feel from it. Jade Whistle always sounds so calm and collected, almost bored at times. What just happened that shocked her so much?

"Here, come with me. You are with us now, you are back. You are safe," she says, as if trying to calm you down, or perhaps calm herself down, but you are too confused to even feel scared about anything. "Comet, help me with her. I know none of you can see but follow my voice."

A pair of stronger hoofs suddenly grab at you, but you are too weak to even react properly. You just let Comet Feet carry you, and he places you next to the ponies you soon realize are Copper Secateur and Starry Dancer.

You breathe deeply, again and again, feeling the cool air slowly bring sense and reason back into your mind. You memory is a blur, but you think you understand part of what just happened, or at least of what you just did.

But you also know that nopony witnessed anything. You know they heard leaves and wings and snaps and other things, but the total darkness of this gathering place means that nopony might ever truly know what transpired.

Except, maybe, Jade Whistle. But you suspect that even she didn't see… everything.

You take a final breath and let out a long sigh, as your mind finally stops spinning. You realize that Copper is holding your hoof, and that Starry seems to be hugging you, but before you can thank them you feel the final presence that now stand in the middle of the circle.

"Beautiful…" it whispers to itself, and the sound seems to come from all directions at once.

"My followers, I have once again called you all in urgency because we stand at the precipice of something great. Our brotherhood is still small, and our efforts may sometimes feel too feeble for the grand goal we have in mind..."

The wind blows from the Woods, although you know you are underground. You hear the gathered ponies around you whisper in wonder.

"But doubt not for a moment, we aim to save Equestria from what it cannot understand, from the dangers it refuses to see. And we will do it by walking the path of opportunity that the alicorn Luna has laid out before us. What we do tonight will be the first true step in that direction."

You hear hoofsteps, the presence seeming to walk around the inner circle as if talking to each of you, walking through the crowd as if giving each individual pony its attention.

"We shall strike at her within her own domain, within her own dreams and mind. We shall raid the libraries of her memory and recover knowledge that has been lost, we shall seek to understand her weaknesses so that we may harness them…" the voice lowers its volume for a moment, its preaching turning into one of warning, "and I offer you all the choice, to witness… There will be lessons to be learned, and your eyes will be opened. But recall the lessons of Lantern and the folly of Moth who seeks for it: knowledge is never kind."

You can feel your Master's yes, if it even has eyes, go over and through all of you, and you understand that you must make a choice.

You swallow something dry in your throat, and make your decision.

[] Witness. (You will accompany the Ritual, and be presented with further choices at the end of it.)

[] Do not. (You have faith in your Master, and for you it is enough that you follow. This will solidify your obedience, and make it much harder for you to want to, or be convinced to, betray your cult. But there is comfort to be found in ignorance.)

This is a very important vote, in which you will form your motivation and plans for the immediate future. Not witnessing will lock you in loyalty, if that is what you wish. Witnessing the ritual will present you with further and more complex options. But it will not be a pleasant experience.

Your body is wrong, your limbs out of place, your body is wrong, your limbs out of place, your body is wrong, your limbs out of pl-. Gained two scraps of MOTH lore.