The Tome of Exalted Ponies

The art of victorious concession stylist ensures that nobody else burns their tongue on hot soup, accepting no ifs and buts.

…

Despite the very brief introduction, and there not being much of a meeting, then it seemed that everyone had at least agreed that their goal was the liberation of Thorns. To this end the meeting was adjourned and everyone moved to see the emissary from the Mask.

Enroute Cash spoke to the unicorns, ironing out the smaller details – things like how Sunhill had no intention of conquering Thorns, only liberating it from the Mask to free up Sunhill resources.

Speaker found Wind Dancer’s conversation with Silverclaws far more interesting to listen in on, as Wind Dancer had apparently made his name as a realm general by leading legions to crush and kill silver-anathema led barbarian tribes and peasant rebellions: “Tell me, Silverclaws, do you know of a… moon-touched one… one like you, who went by the name of Jochim?”

“Nah, I know other lunars – and now some solars – but nobody who goes by that name. When did you last meet him?” Silverclaws said, either oblivious or politely ignoring the unicorn’s strained politeness and clear disdain for her presence and spiritual implications.

Wind Dancer stroked his lush white beard. It was much bigger than Speaker’s but quite well groomed and straight, looking quite regal – as befitting for a famous and prestigious retired realm general: “I think it was back in… oh… bit under two hundred years ago. Fought his armies for almost a decade, it made my name within the realm legions”

Silverclaws gave Wind Dancer a very respectful nod: “The silver pact is not a coherent organization. We might know each other, but we are not bound to aid each other – so what he did back then was his businesses. My business is saving my people, saving Thorns”

For Speaker it was interesting to hear Silverclaws tell her story – and clearly Wind Dancer found it rather impressive too, hearing how a younger Silverclaws had survived as a homeless beggar in Thorns, her family – a lesser noble house of the city – wiped out completely on the black night when the Mask attacked. She had lied, cheated and stolen just to survive, and ultimately escaped the city with a dozen foals in tow, leading them to freedom and salvation: “…and that night the moon shined bright, showing us our path to safety… and at the end of it stood Luna, congratulating me for being a good survivor”

“Impressive. Had you told me that you had met the immaculate dragon Mela and been granted a horn after that, I would likely have believed you” Wind Dancer noted, sounding very much as if peacefully meeting and actually talking to a lunar was turning a lot of old preconceptions he had on their head.

Silverclaws in turn was ecstatic at meeting someone as famous as THE Wind Dancer, saying that she had known that there was a pocket of unicorns that had shown up in one of the abandoned residential districts, and that she had figured that once she and the lords of Sunhill freed Thorns she could turn it over to whoever that would be: “…and I can’t imagine anyone else better suited to take over running Thorns than you and your granddaughter”

“Me and Roseblack as Satraps? Now there’s a fun thought. Honestly, I’d put Denoted Flame up for that first, with me as an advisor – Roseblack has her legion to manage, she has to return for that once we leave here, assuming we get out alive” Wind Dancer said, sounding quite amused by the suggestions – though Cash seemed to pick up on certain unsaid things via the statements.

Looking at the lunar and old air-aspected stallion, Cash nodded: “Right, because after your house legions were destroyed house Tepet hasn’t been able to control its satrapies and collect taxes ther, right?”

Wind Dancer’s expression instantly switched from jovial reminiscence to a soured look: “Exactly… and tell me Lord Cash, do you find joy in ruining the mood of others?”

Silverclaws quickly popped her head in between the two, glaring angrily at Cash: “Ah no, Cash knows far better than to taunt someone of your esteem…” then turning to Wind Dancer: “…though I think he’s simply trying to establish a power dynamic here. It was after all him and his circle that undid the shadowland and pushed the Mask out of the city for the time being”

The look on Cash’s face was not one of surprise, but Speaker did note that his circlemate seemed oddly pleased that Silverclaws had seen through his thinly veiled scheme – though it had highlighted that Wind Dancer didn’t have much military might to threaten the circle with, other than Roseblack’s one lone legion. Speaker certainly wasn’t sure it was necessary to be that mean, but at the same time he trusted Cash to have at least some idea of what he was doing.

The old unicorn frowned: “Indeed. I haven’t seen sorcery that potent on display since the battle of Futile Blood. Simply shining light from on high to whisk away a shadowland? Powers like that would be useful everywhere in Creation, assuming that we get out of here alive”

“You keep saying that – that you’re not sure that we’ll get out of here alive… I mean we’ve been doing exceptionally well quite well” Speaker pointed out, feeling much optimistic considering their success so far.

Cash let out a chuckle, but in doing so Fire Orchid was able to jump into the conversation: “Speaker, we’ve been doing too well. We don’t have an army to hold the city, the Mask still has Juggernaut and his armies outside the city – we’re effectively under siege already”

Oh… right.

The emissary from the Mask, a ghost wrapped in bloody chains, had roughly the same message that it howled to those up on the city wall. It sarcastically ‘congratulated’ everyone on pushing the Mask a few miles away from the city: “…but come nightfall we will be returning to our old haunts, and Thorns will be awash in blood. My master the Mask hopes that your screams and cries for mercy will amuse his pitiless and cold heart! Thorns will not become a shadowland, for it will be plunged into a darkness through which no sun can ever shine, nor any dragon soar. Even the very moon will shy away from this patch of sky, so cursed will it be for all eternity!”

Now, with a message like that most would have fled while they still had time. The circle… had different plans.

Shimmer, having taken careful aim and used her charms to augment her eyes to gain the keen sight of a hawk, fired her web down and lasso’d the ghost, yanking it up for Cash to quickly blast its mind with potent mind control charms: “…and now that you like us, you’ll want to tell us everything you know about the Mask’s plans and troop movements”

Indeed, the ghost spoke like an opened faucet, gleefully telling of how large Thornguard units were already encircling the city under the cover of the nearest ridges that put them out of sight towards the eastern approaches to the city, while the Mask was equally sending messengers to the chirurgeons and necrotech artificiers in the encampment north of the city, ordering them to ready all the bonestriders and other siege constructs they had in storage there to assault the northern walls – including the Physician’s Magnus Necropus, whatever that was. Finally, the Mask would be moving in from the south with his undead army, making for a siege on every side other than the ocean.

“Great… we brought in a single wing of commandos. They can hold their own line, but not against numbers like that. Lieutenant, round everyone up, we’re… what?” Roseblack began, sounding quite defeated already, until she saw how the anathema around her were motioning for her to wait a minute.

The lords of Sunhill did not give up that easily – and indeed, while the ghostly emissary had spoken, they had all started planning.

Sunrise, looking to Silverclaws, boldly inquired: “How well do you dance?”

“Uhm… I can dance pretty well, why?” the confused lunar said, not really seeing where Sunrise was going with the question.

With a kind smile that radiated bottomless confidence, Sunrise nodded at her: “Then you can come with me and help me round up as many still living citizens left in Thorns – I need a lot of backup dancers”

Silverclaws looked at everyone else with great confusion as Sunrise dragged her away, Roseblack shook her head and look at the rest of the circle, appearing quite unsure of this interruption of her giving an order to her lieutenant was planned or not…

“Shimmer, you fly out and check the thornguard moving into position, see who and what leads them. If it looks doable, go fetch Cash to either flip them or at least have them stand down” Fire Orchid ordered, both Cash and Shimmer nodding and walking off.

Wind Dancer frowned: “You’re sending one pony to make an army of brainwashed killers turn on its master? Ambitious”

“You saw what he did to the emissary ghost – he can do that to large groups just the same – he’s scary good at it” Fire Orchid quickly replied, her eyes gliding towards Sully.

The unicorns were nodding amongst themsleves as Fire Orchid continued with her orders for Sullen Hoof: “It’s clear that the Mask has access to a lot more abyssals than we thought. I need you to ghost up and infiltrate, figure out what’s going on – go!”

Sullen Hoof was already gone.

Turning to Speaker, Fire Orchid nodded: “The northern gate is busted open – if you go fix that, and shore up the northern defences against the bonestriders and other horrors bound to come that, that would be nice…”

Speaker found the request sensible, though seeing as he was the last Lord of Sunhill other than Fire Orchid herself, he had to ask: “Sure – but what will you do now?”

“I haven’t guide decided yet. If Cash and Shimmer signals that they succeeded, I’ll gallop out and lead the thornguard south. If they fail… I’ll probably go help beat up whatever is preventing them from flipping the thornguard” Fire Orchid said, bobbing her head up and down, appearing to still be thinking about exactly where she would be the most useful as she spoke, her mind racing a million miles an hour.

Roseblack made a somewhat neutral smirk that Cash would probably have been able to read a lot from: “So you’ll issue orders to the rest of your circle, but not him?”

“He used to have my job in Sunhill as general of their armed forces. He’s been a general longer than I have, so I don’t quite feel I outrank him just yet” Fire Orchid mused, speaking like a grandmother explaining why she didn’t bark harshly at her favourite grandson.

Speaker found Fire Orchid’s tone rather amusing, and Wind Dancer nodded in understanding while Roseblack didn’t quite look at is she had fully understood the group dynamic of the lords of Sunhill.

“Right, but before you go – if the Mask shows up on the battlefield you need to wrap up whatever you’re doing quickly and get there. I’ll have Shimmer be lookout and messenger once she’s done with Cash” Fire Orchid added, Speaker nodding in agreement.

The unicorns found this last exchange somewhat confusing. Roseblack in particular seemed to have questions: “You would need to your best doctor and artificer if the Mask shows up to fight? You expect that anyone going up against the Mask to get that injured?”

“No, Speaker would be the one to fight him – he’s our best warrior when it comes to duels right now” Fire Orchid said quickly before turning to leave, heading towards the eastern city walls.

This left Speaker and the unicorns, who did not really look as if they bought the idea of a doctor being the most powerful warrior among the lords of Sunhill. They also looked just a tad offended at the fact that Fire Orchid hadn’t asked them to do anything, Roseblack asking Speaker to that effect: “Why didn’t she ask us to help out? Does she have something against unicorns?”

“Heavens no – but you were about to order your troops to leave the city. If you want to stick around and help out, I’d suggest you order your troops to fan out in the city. There are no city guards left to keep the peace now, and after five years of undead oppression I can easily imagine all manner of riots, lynch mobs and then some. Have your troops keep the peace, and once that’s in place I would suggest you join Sunrise and hold the southern wall” Speaker said, coming off as quite concerned for the ponies of Thorns.

Wind Dancer had to chuckle: “See now that sounds like the kind of orders I’d expect to hear from a doctor turned general – and it’s not a bad idea either. Our troops aren’t geared for frontline fighting, but they should be able to police the city if they swap uniforms”

“No, they’re not enough to police all of Thorns” Roseblack quickly replied, pointing out that a city like Thorns would need at least ten times the ponies at arms she had with her to police all of it.

Speaker found Roseblack’s argument sound, to which end Wind Dancer suggested: “It’s only the central district that needs policing, to keep any lynch mobs or looters from burning the place to the ground – plus we don’t want the traitors who colluded with the Mask sneaking out of the city. The rest of the city has managed for five years with a minimum of oversight, they’ll handle for another day”

“I can head up the policing – you two prepare for battle” Denoted Flame volunteered, not looking eager, but instead giving off the humble and sage appearance of someone who knew where his skills would be best put to use.

Roseblack thanked Denny, him quickly galloping off and barking orders for the troops to follow him along.

With a respectful nod, Speaker wished the two remaining unicorns luck in battle, before heading north through the city to fix the city gate.

It took a bit to traverse the city, and it was clear to see that it was very much so in a state of chaos: scattered zombie work crews were dotted all over the place, just standing in place and smoking in the sunlight as they were wasting away, their ghost taskmasters having either fled out of the city, or already been scorched into oblivion by the sun.

To get to the northern city gate, of the four grand gates into Thorns, Speaker had to go through what Fire Orchid had originally called Shenjin district – but that district was no more. Silken Laughter’s smugglers had explained the new layout of the city to the circle earlier, detailing how most of the now Aspir Haven district was a crammed district inside the city walls replete with workshops and warehouses – all of it ground to a halt of course, as zombie labourers stood inactive, awaiting new orders from taskmasters that weren’t there anymore, as they slowly turned to ash in the sunlight.

It also didn’t help that the Physician, who Speaker wasn’t quite sure where he was being kept prisoner, had ploughed straight through Aspir Haven to get to the circle as quickly as possible, reducing dozens of city blocks and many a factory to ruins. Workers in the district were desperately trying to put out the fires that this path of ruin had brought with it, though it seemed that the heavy rains from the storm were doing most of the work.

Seeing all the ruined forges and steel mills gave Speaker… ideas – and thus while passing through the district, he called over several taskmasters and factory managers, of the few that were mortal. It took surprisingly little to make them agree to his orders, though Speaker couldn’t tell if that because they were mind-controlled to just agree with anything asked, or because they were thankful for having cleansed the city and wanted to help keep it like that.

At the city gate itself Speaker observed the disgusting mess: Several dozen zombies had been trampled by the great monstrous beast the Physician had ridden, and just as many had been smeared up against the city gate by the giant undead beast as they had been in the way. This meant that Speaker first had to go around cleaning the thick timbers with essence, before using his repair charms to knit the massive bits of timber back together.

A sizable crowd gathered near Speaker to watch, as his golden essence repaired the damages wrought by the undead monstrosity that had battered its way in. It was clear that quite a few of them had mixed feelings about a golden anathema operating out in the open – but at the same time Speaker didn’t hear anyone shouting any ill will at him.

Indeed, while struggling to float some of the larger bits of the gate into place – the pieces appearing to have been cut from impossibly massive north-western redwood logs – many citizens came up to Speaker and helped him push and pull at the large pieces of shattered gate. Even a few local unicorns appeared, lending their essence to help as they saw that Speaker was, if nothing else, labouring to keep the dead out of the city.

It was as if the citizens of Thorns had realized that Speaker probably had some kind of connections to the golden light that had come down from the sky earlier, which had pushed the city back out of the shadowland. All around them color was returning to the faded paints and withered flowerbeds on people’s windowsills – the very spirit of the people of Thorns rising – and so instead of angry words against the golden anathema in their midst, Speaker heard discussion among the ponies watching him slot the last bit of gate together, talking curiously about what gods could have given him such power, for it was obvious that he was not dragonblooded, but not a murderous agent of the Mask either.

Sure, it wasn’t everyone who was expressing that kind of curiosity – and quite a few ponies were shushing such conversations – but the thought was out in the open, inescapably so. This left Speaker with a smile on his face as he ascended the northern walls of the city, to make a siege defence plan…

Oh, that did not look good.

Recalling the tour that the circle had gotten when they had arrived in Thorns, where they had been shown around the grand military encampment north of the city by the Physician, Speaker had a pretty good idea of what he would be facing: A lot of bonestriders, the large thirty to fourty feet tall pony-form constructs of flesh, bone and brass rivets – walking necrotechnical siege machines that could stomp enough entire units of infantry, along with all the other horrors that the Physician had sewn together for the Mask.

Of course, Speaker also knew that the encampment was chiefly just a large storage and staging facility for that kind of large units – not much in the form of real infantry. Oh, they no doubt had loads of zombies for their work crews, but since the shadowland had been pushed away then the encampment’s zombies would be withering away. This would leave the bonestriders without infantry support, and quite likely without ghost pilots.

The question now was how to exploit that – and Speaker was thinking so hard you could hear the sparks flying inside his head.

Looking down from the wall, Speaker observed the road that circled the city – the outer wall street – and he could see the freshly dug dirt around the city-side edge of the road. That was where all the road crews earlier the morning had placed the painted salt bars. The salt barrier appeared undisturbed.

This made Speaker think about who and what would pilot the bonestriders. Ghosts probably – because you need someone who can wield essence – and those ghosts would not be able to cross the salt barrier… so would they be forced out the bonestriders? Was it even necessary for him to do anything? Well, he could prioritize anything that wasn’t controlled by ghosts.

It was while thinking such thoughts, trying to plan out and imagine what kind of traps he could make, that Fire Orchid showed upon the north wall near him: “Speaker, a word!”

“What – hey Fire Orchid, shouldn’t you be on the eastern waiting for Shimmer and Cash?” Speaker wondered, looking at the old mare.

Fire Orchid at first didn’t say anything as she approached, then she shook her head slightly: “Yes. I need a weapon. I can toss zombies and ghosts around just fine bare-hoofed, but against foes that can think… My hooves can only chip away so much before it starts to hurt”

“I can make you a steel blade in an instant – but… you’re not here for that, are you?” Speaker said, receiving a knowing nod from Fire Orchid.

It turned out that Fire Orchid had asked around the night before. Silken Laughter had told her of the immaculate temple in the Shroudvant district, of how it supposedly had a vault full of things taken from anathema as part of wyld hunts.

“Oh… nab a dailklaive from the forbidden arsenal. Great idea!!” Speaker said, finding the idea quite clever.

Happy that Speaker saw the potential of her idea, Fire Orchid explained that she would need help to breach the vault: “When the Mask came and overran the city, the last few immaculate unicorns in the temple sealed the vault with ancient magic. Apparently not even the Mask has been able, or bothered, to breach it – I figure you could just use your singing staff to make us a new door in the wall or something”

Quickly descending from the wall, the two began to head towards the Shroudwant district. They hadn’t made it far when a pony came up to Speaker: “Sir, we’re almost halfway with the project, but the forges can’t be salvaged”

“That’s ok – just gather enough materials, I’ll handle the rest – and come nightfall tell everyone to seek shelter well away from the walls, remember what I said” Speaker noted, looking as if he was doing some quick mental calculations, before motioning Fire Orchid for the two of them to continue, who in turn wasn’t questioning what project Speaker had initiated.

In Shroudvant the previously heady smog of incense was… not really there anymore. Why exactly that was, wasn’t quite obvious, but the duo saw a lot of worried looks coming out the windows where they walked. Maybe it was the realm troops patrolling the streets, maybe it was that the Mask was gone and they feared the inevitable purges and punishment they stood to get for colluding with their dark lord.

At the immaculate temple the duo was met by a grizzle sight. The temple to the immaculate dragons looked about as one would expect for a place that had been under the rule of the dead for five years: The murals were smeared with blood, the altars were profaned with all manners of filth, and the floors were painted with what could best be called blood sigils that likely evoked whatever dark things one worshiped in the underworld.

There were also dozens of ponies, a few of which wearing very worn and patched immaculate robes, working hard with mops and buckets, cleaning the unholy mess up.

One of the ponies in tattered immaculate garb spotted Speaker and Fire Orchid enter, looking at them with mild confusion. Fire Orchid, in her battle-worn armor, and Speaker in his faded lookshyan uniform most certainly did not look like ponies who had much business in an immaculate temple: “Are you here to help clean up? Or offer yourselves as temple guards?”

“Neither – we’re here for the vault, we need weapons to defend the city” Fire Orchid said, stepping forward.

The monk, appearing young but by her features but aged from her struggles, took a few steps back: “No, please! The vault is sealed for a reason! There is evil in there”

“And you don’t think the Mask is a bigger evil? We shined our light on him, and he fled – but he will be back. Now either step aside, or show us the way” Fire Orchid stated, speaking like a wizened soldier who did not want to fight, but knew that she had to.

It was a bit amusing to see the wavering expression on the monk. It was absolutely clear that she did not want the Mask back in charge – but to let golden anathema to the vault would be a grave violation of immaculate dogma just the same…

“If anyone asks, you raided the vault before we returned here, ok?” the monk said, her voice uneasy and her eyes going all over the place as she kept looking for anyone who might spot her committing this act of heresy.

Fire Orchid cared not for her wish to cover herself, while Speaker saw no reason to antagonize her further: “Sure, if anyone asks”

The vault itself was deep into the temple, past many a blood-smeared murals, at a very large jadesteel-banded stone door. At first Speaker thought that the door and vault was a tiny manse hidden in the temple, but with essence sight he saw no dragon lines feeding into the place: “Fascinating… the door and its locking mechanism are powered by the temple, drawing power from the sanctity and prayers of the place...”

“Neat. Can we open it or not? Is it sealed beyond what you can work out?” Fire Orchid said, not terribly impressed.

Not wanting to destroy something that clever, Speaker examined the magical lock and chuckled: “It’s not really sealed… the lock had just been changed – very clever”

From what Speaker could tell, then the lock had been switched from the normal “turn key, open door” mode, into one where no key was needed, but where the vault itself would take several days to open by feeding it essence, as he began to fiddle with the crystal display where you normally had to touch the key: “Anyone who doesn’t check the mechanism thoroughly will think its sealed – it’s quite a sneaky way of locking it when you have to run away and can’t protect it”

“You’re still not telling me if you can o… ah there we go” Fire Orchid said, startled mid-sentence as the vault door began to creak open.

The monk looked at Speaker incredulously while Fire Orchid rushed in: “But… how? The abbot sealed the vault before rushing out to fight the undead!?”

“I switched the vault back from its seal-mode to normal lock mode, and then picked that – it was really to pick” Speaker said, floating a piece of key-shaped twisted metal around he had brought along from the ruined bits of the Aspir Haven district.

From within the vault, Fire Orchid shouted: “Speaker, get in here – I need you to make this work”

The monk shook her head and returned to her cleaning project as Speaker entered the vault, his and Fire Orchid’s voices easy to hear from the outside: “Make what work? Oh… oh yes… oh we can make that work”

“Can you repair it? Look, its broken here and here – and this plate looks missing”

“Oh, I can fix it. Look, this is the part you said is missing – here, put this on…”

The monk who had led the two into the vault sighed deeply as she listened in on the duo, swearing to herself that she would beg the dragons for forgiveness later on… or so she would have, if someone behind her hadn’t planted a large jagged blade through her chest.

“That… that didn’t sound good. We’ve got trouble outside” Fire Orchid noted, her ears swivveling about.

Speaker sighed, working as quickly as possible: “I know – but its working, you should be good – go out and have a look”

The assassin who had spent quite a few hours sneaking around Thorns, hiding in shadows and staying well out of sight, trailing Speaker at first and subsequently him and Fire orchid, had planned for a nice little ambush, after the Mask had sent to kill the organizers of the rebellion. The assassin in question just hadn’t bet on Fire Orchid’s keen senses and charms that them even keener.

The ghost-possessed corpse known Bearer of Grim Tidings and Darks Omens had not expected to be tossed out of the temple a few seconds later – but such was the lot of the foe of a solar. No time was granted for afterthoughts, only a long vertical smear as the black-robed pony impacted a wall opposite from the temple, and the dead heap of skin, bones and misery lying hodgepodge underneath – an unconscious ghost tumbling out of it all, and quickly evaporating in the burning sunlight.

Speaker came racing out to track Fire Orchid in her pursuit of the killer: “That… wow, that was fast”

“I know – this’ll be great!” Fire Orchid said, flexing in her new equipment, even as it creaked and groaned, showing clear signs of not being fully attuned yet.

“Perfect. Then I can get back to Aspir Haven. I’ve got some weapons to build and traps to lay – see you later, stay safe”