The Tome of Exalted Ponies

The Path of The Arbiter stylist seeks out soup of evil, and a true arbiter may see that soup devoured with any manner or utensil, for true justice is blind.

…

Facing two abyssals, deep in the underground sewers of Thorn, and standing between the abyssals and a group of what looked like local resistance fighters and refugees, the circle didn’t really know whether to chuckle or flat out laugh.

Their bemused reaction was clearly not what the two deathknights had expected, nor what the Thornese resistance fighters had expected – thought they were quick to begin a somewhat coordinated retreat to get away…

“Oh no you don’t” the dark-on-dark abyssal said, raising a finely hooficure’d limb. The other abyssal, the one clad in pale white armor, stepped aside, as if both of them seemed to know exactly what was about to happen.

…nothing happened. Only the shuffle of the rag-clad ponies as they withdrew into dark sewer tunnels behind them, their mushroom lanterns veiled to not give them away.

The dark-on-dark abyssal frowned, looking behind him: “Wait… where are the zombies?”

“Please don’t tell me that you forgot the shamblers back at some tight corner or narrow door again…” the armored abyssal groaned, leaning on her soulsteel scythe which had a blade as thick as her accent.

“No, they were right behind me – I had Fizzy make me a dozen with fast legs last week” the dark-on-dark abyssal argued, completely ignoring the five ponies before him and his partner.

The armored abyssal shook her head, her helmet rattling ever so slightly: “Fast legs my flank – come on Fives, we can do this ourselves”

It was just as the armored abyssal switched into a trot towards the ponies before her that a voice behind them spoke up: “I am not quite sure what you expect to do – but unless it’s to die down here, then you’re about to be very disappointed”

The two abyssals turned to look, seeing Sullen Hoof in his golden mask standing in the hallway they had come from, amidst the sliced and diced remains of all of the Fives’ zombie troops. Fives snarled menacingly, revealing teeth that were far too pointy to be natural at Sully: “A solar… oh we are going to get such rewards when we present your head to our master”

It was with the slightest of shake that Sully shook his head at the two, then nodding at the rest of his circle behind them: “Not just one…”

The two abyssals quickly peeked behind themselves, only to find a lot of glowing golden caste marks ready to meet them – as well as a single silvery one. They didn’t even get time to cry out, call for reinforcements, or try to coordinate a retreat – for Speaker, Shimmer and Fire Orchid was on them in an instant. With but a touch Speaker had both of the abyssals sleeping, while Shimmer and Fire Orchid caught the two as they began to tip over.

Laying the two sleeping abyssals down gently, to avoid waking them up, Speaker quickly darted over to the zombie remains and picked up bits of bone and cloth rags, fashioning two simple dream-catchers. Returning to the abyssals, he used the dreamcatchers to store the strange silvery wisps of light that he withdrew from the two, inserting it into the dream catchers: “There, all yours Fire Orchid”

The old martial mare loomed over the two deathknights, shaking her head: “Forgetting your own troops… pathetic”

With a long and thin dagger through the white armored one’s helmet eye slits, Fire Orchid quickly put one abyssal into the grave – the poor thing barely got time to wake up and squirm before it was too late. It was as she was about to do the same to the other one, the one called Fives, that the unicorn mare and her ragged rebels reappeared at the other end of the sewer hall: “Wait!”

Fire Orchid shot the unicorn a somewhat disappointed look – both for having been disrupted in her execution, but also because shouting might wake the abyssal and the old mare didn’t feel in the mood for a desperate fight to the death. She quickly knelt down and stabbed the deathknight repeatedly in the head until it stopped spasming, afterwards looking at the unicorn like a grandmother glaring disapprovingly at a whining foal: “Don’t shout when someone’s enemy is asleep dear – kill them first, then you can shout”

The unicorn galloped up to the circle and the two dead abyssals, looking incredulously at them, at the glowing golden mark on Speaker and Fire Orchid’s brow: “What… how did you… who the hell are you?”

“How about you tell us who you are first?” Cash politely suggested, though his tone was firm and authoritarian, leaving no doubt that this request had not been one up for debate or discussion.

Duly intimidated by seeing her two tormentors slain so quickly and effortlessly, but also by seeing that the ponies before him were golden anathema, it was clear that the unicorn was greatly conflicted. Were they friends? Were they foes? They had clearly come not bearing drawn arms, but… they clearly didn’t need such either: “You… I am Vanilla Bean, now who the in the dragon’s bloody scrotes are you, and how did you kill those two demons so easily?”

Cash flashed a brief smile to the rest of the circle. They nodded at him, and so he gave the unicorn their formal and truthful introductions, informing the wide-eyed unicorn and the other Thornese resistance fighters that they were face to face with the lords of Sunhill: “…now, like I said earlier, then we would love to speak to whoever is in charge. We wish coordinate our efforts to liberate Thorns – for we are here on a little fact-finding mission, in preparation for the final push to free Thorns”

Vanilla bean found it all quite too much. The new dark anathema having been slain by the anathema of old that the monks always warned about? And yet the results were difficult to argue with…

Poking Cash and motioning towards the group of rebels, Speaker relied on his fellow lord having enough charms of subtle social signal detection running that he didn’t have to speak, and so Cash quickly added: “…and my friend here, while deadly in combat, is also a magically gifted healer. He can help your ghostblooded filly friend with the bleeding eyes”

Nodding quickly, chiefly because she really didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of that very deadly healer, Vanilla bean saw Speaker dart past her, going much faster than what a grey-bearded old stallion had any business moving.

Speaker quickly found the filly, two of her fellow rag-clad ponies tending to her – but they quickly moved aside as the lord of Sunhill confidently stepped up and ushered healing essence upon her. The filly came to with a start, instantly pawing at her clenched eyes – but with essence he forced her eyes open and washed them out with purifying energies. This did not look pleasant, but she quickly stopped resisting, falling asleep even as her eyes were held open thanks to Speaker’s various charms.

Concentrating greatly, as the unexpectedly complicated nature of the ghostblooded filly’s eyes kept throwing Speaker curveballs, the solar had to actually put effort into the medical procedure. It wasn’t clear which lunatic had put flecks of soulsteel into the filly’s eyes, but Speaker knew for certain that he dearly wanted to kill that heinous soul, for the filly’s ability to see essence clearly had not been natural… no… this was something done to her – and it had inflicted great suffering upon her in the process.

He hoped it wasn’t the unicorn – would be a shame to sour their relationship with the resistance this early, though if they were willing to commit such cruelty to their own, then Thorns might not be worth saving.

As the last fleck was slid out of the eyes of the filly, Speaker breathed a heavy sigh of relief, then flushed her eyes with healing essence. They were no longer red, but instead pale yellow.

“There we go – come on, we’re going to see their leader” Shimmer said over Speaker’s shoulder.

The filly waved enthusiastically as the circle walked into the darkness, led on by Vanilla bean.

It turned out that the central hideout of the Thornese resistance was located in what had previously been some kind of secret, underground brothel, opium and smuggler’s den. In the tunnels around it an underground tent city had been set up, wrought of everything from sail-cloth to scavenged curtains, all of it patched, stained and stitched from years of wear and filthy sewer-living. The huddled ponies that looked out from their tents had sunken eyes and gaunt faces: Nobody there was eating well, though they weren’t as skeletonized as the circle had feared either, indeed the circle walked past a lot of small mushroom farms and even pens with pigs being fed nosh plucked from the sewers.

Inside the curiously labelled Seven-Tiered Sanctuary was a strange mix of… everything. There were dazed ponies huddled in the corners, slim and simple opium pipes hanging from their mouths, along with the sweet smoke from hashish pouring out of other alcoves. It seemed that a lot of the refugees there had resorted to drugs to numb the pain of living, all the while thuggish looking ponies hauled around crates, barrels and other forms of cargo that would likely never see a tax authority, though a lot of it looked like stolen barrels and sacks of food.

As the circle was guided from the top levels deeper down, they all felt the strange change in local essence flows. They were in a manse – a simple and not terribly potent one – but a manse none the less. Cash effortlessly conversed with their guide, one of Vanilla bean’s ponies at arms – a rag-clad mare with a worn spear. Through this pony the circle learned that the seven-tiered sanctum used to be a brothel and drug den, but now it had become the defacto hide-out of the rebels fighting against the mask… though it seemed to very much have been a losing fight.

On the third level their guide told the circle to wait outside a door. Knocking and then entering, the guide emerged a few moments later. Now, the circle had speculated at what the local leadership would be: A bandit king? A smuggler captain? Perhaps some castle guards and army officers who had survived the attack on Thorns?

Their guide waved them in.

The room wasn’t terribly big, and the threadbare tapestries showed motifs of flowery dragons and… playing cards? It wasn’t really possible to see much further into the room, as it was thick with tobacco smoke. Speaker recognized the flowery dragons as images of one of the aspects of Luranume, the god of luck. Cards and luck? This was a room for cardplay – and indeed as the circle ventured deeper into the wall of smoke they found in the middle of the room a decently sized table, around with five ponies sat and played, one of them merrily puffing on what was left of huge cigar, who seemed to be the primary source of all the smoke. A scattered pile of cigar stumps on the floor around the smoker revealed just how much tobacco the stogie-muncher had gone through already.

“You lot in charge here?” Fire Orchid inquired, sounding a bit like an accusatory grandmother who had found a bunch of youngsters doing something they shouldn’t.

A haughty laugh came from the group around the table. The thick smoke around them made it difficult to make out much beyond hazy silhouettes, but one figure rose and approached to greet the circle: “Ah, our vaunted saviours. The ponies who slew our two main tormentors”

The pony was a tall and slim stallion, his bone structure delicate and his features elegant. A short cloak fell from his narrow shoulders, over his back to his hips, a tight shirt of pale silk clinging to his torso. Rounding off the look were loose trousers that flared over his hooves, covering just perfectly so they didn’t get stepped on or dragged along the ground: “I am Silken Laughter, proprietor of this den of sin – and for the death of those two ragamuffins, I am in your debt, which I shall pay in kind through this offer of free stay and entrance to my humble hideout”

Fire Orchid shrugged: “We’ve killed worse for less – and we came here to help. The mask has made enemies of us, and so we’re here to figure out how to end him”

Silken Laughter laughed at Fire Orchid and grinned mockingly, sounding thoroughly amused at her matter-of-factly tone: “Oh really? You six would take on a deathlord, who’s very gaze sees the mightiest of ponies tremble and die?”

“Wouldn’t be the first one we put down” Cash said almost casually, returning a grin to Silken Laughter just as shit-eating and confident.

With a raised eyebrow, the elegant dandy was about to say something, but in the end, he seemed to simply nod, ushering the circle out of the game room: “Come, let us speak somewhere more private”

A few minutes later, in what looked like a much nicer tea salon – one not clouded in smoke, Silken Laughter invited the circle to sit down and get comfortable: “Now, you made a bold claim… but then again, having casually put down two deathknights makes for just as bold a statement. Come sit, I’ll tell you about how I’ve helped organize the resistance here and leveraged my assets to help out, and then you can tell us ho-”

Joining them in the tea salon, Vanilla Bean joined the party via a rather blunt statement as she sat down next to Silken Laughter: “Bullshit. Nobody casually kills a deathknight – those freaks are near impossible to kill!”

Shimmer looked at the unicorn mare, smiling at how funny it was to see the unicorn’s frustration given voice: “Who exactly is she”

Silken Laughter picked up a teapot and poured himself a cup in some very nicely Thorn-made and glazed ceramic cup: “She’s new at this. Got her horn barely a year ago down here. She’s my latest head of security, used to be just another of my smugglers, one of my best mind you – now she keeps us safe from ghosts or whatever other stitched-together horrors the Mask and Fizzy flushes down here”

Cash looked at Silken Laughter as he sipped his tea, then back at his circle: “You know, I’m getting a funny vibe from giggles over here, what do you see in him Speaker?”

With essence sight, Speaker tried to look at Silken Laughter, but even squinting he couldn’t… see… but he could that he couldn’t see: “He’s… veiled. Can’t tell how, with what kind of essence, but he is enlightened”

Silken Laughter shrugged, speaking quietly: “Few can see through my glamour – still, impressive that you can even see one is there”

Vanilla Bean seemed a tad annoyed that she was being ignored: “Hey, I still have questions about you lot”

“Oh, I know – and like you, we know it to be wise to know who and what you’re talking to considering where we are and who reigns up above up. For example, in confirming that Silken Laughter is more than just a mortal a bandit king here, we can infer that he is likely on very bad terms with the local immaculates due to their stance on god-blooded or anathema ponies, to which end we can estimate that at least he won’t be as upset about our presence as you might. Hell, he might even have heard of us” Cash eloquently stated, leaving the Vanilla Bean to nod as she found wisdom in his words, even though she also looked a bit confused.

A chuckle from Silken Laughter revealed his approval: “So the mighty Lords of Sunhill are not just great warriors, but clever ponies who knows how to pick their fights..”

The unicorn mare shot Silken Laughter a quizzical look: “These ones? You must be joking”

“Not at all – these are the very ones who fought with Lookshy at Deep Rot according to the stories, who convinced Lookshy to wage war in the underworld to begin with, who brought brief ruin to Lookshy – oh the stories they can no doubt tell…” Silken Laughter said, prancing around Vanilla bean to lord the fact that he had clearly heard tales about Sunhill and its lords from his smugglers and their connections.

The mood quickly changed into one of serious discussion as the unicorn explained what they had been doing: “Silky here handles internal operations, keeps everyone fed and from stabbing each other in their sleep. As he noted, I handle security, keeping the sewers somewhat safe, and then we’ve got a third party – the leader of our smuggling operations in and out of the city: A lunar called Anja Silverclaws”

Shimmer perked up at the mention of that name – well, part of it. Sage had told her the legend of Silverclaws, the lunar who had rebuilt the silver pact after what little organization they had had having been shattered by the same great contagion that brought an end to the shogunate, reorganizing the lunars into what they had now: “…all lunar owes Silverclaws a great debt, even after he died and reincarnated”

“Interesting – a lunar in charge of your... outside operations? What’s her skin in this game?” Cash wondered, well aware of what the obvious answer might be, but hoping to gleam some deeper clues to what was going on in Thorns.

The unicorn mare gladly explained this, though her tone remained serious: “The ghosts and deathknights sniff out essence veils in no time at all – Anja always had trouble sneaking around unless she shapeshifted into something to hide that way around. Our regular smugglers can move around with just some simple makeup to colour our coats. There are enough unicorns still living up in the city that I can blend in easily too if need be. It makes it much safer to scout or make contact with merchants and smugglers up top”

Sullen Hoof nodded: “Makes sense – you need some very powerful disguising charms to hoodwink an abyssal who is actually looking for disguised ponies”

Silken Hoof and the unicorn were both startled from the sudden appearance of Sully, mainly because he still looked like a ghost – but he quickly dropped the charms he was using, reverting to his appearance to his normal silken chefs-uniform and orichalcum helmet.

“…how the… who are you?!” Vanilla Bean said, looking oddly offended.

Cash laughed: “He is Sullen Hoof, chosen of Celestia of the night caste. Sneakiest pony I’ve ever met, and a master chef blessed by heaven. Once sauced an assassin and made the poor thing eat itself”

“Must have been some sauce” Silken Laughter chuckled, hiding the fact that he was screaming inside over this sudden reveal surprisingly well, though not well enough for Cash to not detect it.

The plain-looking unicorn scowled at Sully: “How did you look like a ghost? The mask’s watch towers detect all essence veils we use!? And why the golden mask?”

“I don’t know you, so why should I do a show and tell of my disguise charms and tricks?” Sully shot back to the mare, leaving her face twisted in anger.

Silken Laughter quickly put a hoof on the unicorn mare’s shoulder: “Easy there”

It was obvious that the mare didn’t like that Sully wouldn’t reveal his identity to her – the circle understood that, though as far as they were concerned then the opinion of some random unicorn was quite inconsequential, while the unicorn probably felt it quite vital for operational security or something.

“You were talking earlier about your assets and what you brought to the resistance here. What do you have and how have you been using them?” Cash inquired, trying to bring things back on topic.

Silken Laughter nodded, continuing: “Right, well – when the city fell, we were flooded by ponies seeking refuge. I helped where I could, and we’ve always had a solid store of emergency food, rations, tents and whatnot. The second thing we brought to the table was experience in leadership. Anja is amazingly sneaky, and can fight any of us to a standstill and then some, but she’s not all that good at training others. Me, I’ve commanded troops and know from experience how to train them – that’s how we were able to set up our sewer guard system. We also got a few runaway palace guards who helped train my goon squads on proper realm legion-style fighting techniques, at least until they got captured. And finally, I’ve got the money to make things happen when it needs to”

Speaker recalled that there were some lunar training charms – but they weren’t as scalable as his own mass educational charms, and he truly couldn’t remember if unicorns even had any such charms… Of course, simply having practical experience was undeniably useful too – you could always teach ponies the normal way, if you had the time.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but the ponies here do not appear flush with cash nor trained to be expert resistance fighters. They look starving and scared” Sullen Hoof pointed out.

Vanilla Bean nodded: “Oh you are absolutely right – but they’re also not starving to death… it was very different when a lot of us arrived. With his funds and organizational skills, Silken Laughter has turned his smugglers into a very regular food delivery service. Everyone here goes hungry, but they also know that they’ll get at least one meal a day to stay alive with – which does wonders for morale. We can only smuggle in so much food, but we’re keeping the ponies here alive and picking off the traitors who sided with the Mask up above one by one”

“Interesting – but you’ll have to forgive me. Since we got here, between the whispers I heard while being guided in here, and you being hounded by those abyssals… makes it sound very much like you lot are on the defensive” Cash pointed out.

Silken Laughter nodded: “Oh we have never been in a position to strike directly at the Mask – and his deathknights are powerful anathema… but we’ve been chipping away at the Masks’s government, making him assign his deathknights to increasing amounts of managerial or bodyguard work to keep his administration working. We’ve slowed the Masks’s weapon and armor production to a crawl, and the craftsponies in his employ show up to work each morning shaking with fear that they’ll be the next one we kill…”

“So… you have the organizational skills, the funding to keep everyone fed enough to be useful… what are you missing? Muscle? We took care of the two deathknights” Fire Orchids mused, sounding as if she was trying to find the missing piece of the strategic puzzle – or identify what niche that the circle could best fill out.

Vanilla Bean sighed deeply, putting his cup down: “In a word… headcount. I’ve helped train some of the most promising of our goons into serviceable saboteurs and guerrilla fighters, but we lost the last squad of them a week ago to a ghost ambush. We barely have enough hooves left to sneak in food”

“All killed?” Speaker simply had to ask, not really wanting to know the answer, but his heart gave him no choice.

Briefly shivering, Silken Laughter motioned for servants to bring more snacks: “In Thorns you never just die – and the Masks’ forces prefer live captures. They take you Shackle Maw Penitentiary… and there you’ll die a thousand times, before they carve you up into a zombie and make you into a new ghost-slave for the Mask”

Shimmer put a confident hoof down on the table: “Sounds like a good opening move would be a prison break then – let’s get your ponies back”